Djinn of Chaos
by Rose the Wary Wolf
Summary: After Solomon's death, Harry was so bored. With nothing to do, he raised his dungeon for his own amusement. He wasn't expecting someone to actually find their way to his room, but this anomaly surprised him. Harry accepted the man as his King and stealthy stayed by his side. After all, who expects the pretty green eyed dancer to be Sinbad's secret eighth Metal Vessel. Djinn!Harry.
1. Chapter 1

**Why do I do this to myself? Just…why. **

**But, just like with Keep Walking, I can't continue my other stories with this plot bunny bouncing around in my head. **

**It won't leave me aloneeeee.**

**So, I decided to write this and get it out of my head. **

**Make sure to tell me how it goes, okay?**

**I don't own Harry Potter, Magi, or the Adventures of Sinbad. Pretty sure the Snipes and the Lunias are mine though.**

* * *

Harry was bored, plain and simple.

Ever since Solomon died, he had had no entertainment. Admittedly, with Ugo's plan, Harry thought he would have infinite amusement. Another world? Sign Harry up! Turning into a supernatural being that would cause chaos all around the new world? As if they could keep him out of it!

But, no, he was just stuck in his own little dimension as he waited for the fun to start without him.

Harry sighed, a sound that echoed through the cavern he was lounging his large body in. When Death had kicked his lazy ass through the Veil of Death, Harry wasn't sure what he was expecting. Being spit out in an apocalyptic world where humans were the bottom of the food chain was probably one of the most interesting things Harry had seen in his handful of millennia existing.

Of course, Harry just watched for a few hundred years, stepping in on occasion. When the humans were gifted with magic, Harry was bewildered. Did Death really just throw him into the very, very distant past? Were these humans perhaps his ancestors?

He was quickly proven wrong as the humans started to subjugate the beings that previously hunted them. Harry tried to be surprised, but he learned a lot about human nature since becoming the Master of Death. Mortals were not understanding or kind. They were selfish and cruel and he wanted nothing to do with them, in this world or his own.

At least, that's what he thought until he ended up standing in front of Solomon Jehoazha Abraham, the leader of the humans rebelling against the Council of Elders.

Now, Harry could admit that he had been watching the younger man ever since his father introduced him to the rest of humanity. Harry, being just another face in the crowd, had merely thought the boy was adorable with his petulant glare.

When the boy turned against his father and gathered others onto his side with his overwhelming charisma, Harry was the only one in the settlement laughing his ass off. He couldn't help it though, David had actually tripped down the stairs when he received the news.

It took three years before Harry met the troublemaker himself. The adorable little brat was far too much for him to handle, though. Harry was adamant that the only reason he agreed to join up with the boy was to stop his nagging. Harry liked his peace and quiet just as much as he liked his chaos, thank you very much.

The more important topic was that Harry, the Master of Death and Chaos Connoisseur, was bored. This was something that was _not allowed to happen._

But, according to Ugo, who had graciously taken control after Arba decided to be a bitch (there had been many pouts directed at Harry, who ignored the scholar), Harry had to wait for magi to save him. Harry might have the long hair for the role, but he sure as hell was not a damsel in distress. Becoming a djinn was not going how Harry thought it would.

And so, Harry waited a couple hundred years in his cavern, bored out of his mind. Sometimes he would venture out of his cavern to investigate the rest of his personal dimension. The entire place looked exactly like his former school, Hogwarts, just missing all of the curious minds.

When Harry shrank down to a more human form, he could walk the castle, just remembering all of the good times. If, on occasion, he forgot where he was and tried to talk to one of his long dead friends, Harry wasn't telling anyone.

At first, he spent his time learning things he had yet to waste his time on. Since, before he had been sent to Alma Toran, Harry had spent hundreds of years learning all he could about his original dimension's magic, Harry decided to teach himself muggle skills. Using his magic, he summoned books about dancing and singing and drawing. It barely took him a decade to master the fine arts.

But, Harry quickly got lonely and decided to create little beings to inhabit the castle with him. One of the species he made looked suspiciously like house elves, so much so that he named the leader Dobby.

He also made thestrals, as well as owl-headed wolves and snake-skinned leopards that he called Lunias and Snipes.

Harry came to the understanding that he was going insane when he started calling his creations by his friends names and having lengthy conversations with them.

Snape, the largest Snipe, would usually respond by trying to bite his nose off. Harry immediately decided he was his favorite Snipe, with Blaise coming up as a close second.

Even with the company, Harry eventually got bored again. He didn't remember how long he had been locked inside the embodiment of his childhood home, but he wanted out. He wanted to see other people and cause chaos and have fun.

So, remembering that Ugo said that only the new magi could raise the 'Dungeons' that the djinn would be lurking inside, Harry smirked. He so loved to cause chaos.

Taking advantage of how different he was, Harry raised his own dungeon and sat back to watch the fireworks.

Harry didn't even have to wait a full day before he felt someone enter his domain. Interestingly enough, the rukh that came along with him into the separate dimension told Harry everything he needed to know about his visitor. The man was young and arrogant. He was dared to try the Dungeon by one of his friends who said he was too scared to enter.

The boy barely lasted three minutes. Snape, happy with his snack, slipped into Harry's room to curl up next to his large green Djinn body.

The next three days passed with enough entertainment to keep Harry busy. People would enter, convinced that they would be the ones to leave alive. Harry never had to raise a hand against the adventurers, who were either struck down by his precious creations or by the traps around the castle. The only person to get close to the entrance to his lair was subsequently killed by Dobby and his mate, Winky.

Harry was very interested in the fact that his visitors were always men. Not a single woman dared to step inside his domain. Harry really hoped it wasn't for sexist reasons, Arba and Sheba had been completely badass. The mere thought that women had regressed since they died rubbed Harry the wrong way.

It was when Harry was lounging in his room, surrounded by his most beloved creations that he felt a group of men enter his dungeon. He sat up quickly in surprise as the new information was whispered to him, his large djinn body disrupting many of his napping creations.

The group was large, around a dozen people. Harry was enchanted by the number of rukh that followed the men in. They whispered to him about their adventures, telling him all about their Lords. The immortal was impressed and enthralled. This might just be his chance.

Snape snuffled closer, his large body pressing closer to his green tinted flesh. Harry reached down to rub a single finger across the smaller creature's skin. With all of his creations sleeping down in his room, the visitors' only threat was the castle's traps. Harry wondered just how many would die and later feed his children.

The green Djinn grinned, refusing to move as he felt the group move closer and closer to his room. Feeling his raising excitement, the creatures started to wake. Luna and Ollivander, his two favorite thestrals started to whicker, calling for his attention.

"Hush now, my children," Harry grinned, his poison green eyes sparking. The beings that surrounded him stilled immediately. "I want to meet these…_fascinating_ guests of ours."

Dobby and Winky, the Dungeon Elves, exchanged looks. Ron and Hermione, the leading Lunias merely went back to sleep at his reassurance.

Harry remained silent, listening for the approaching humans.

"Are you sure it's this way? Wouldn't it make more sense for the treasure to be in the dungeons or at the top of the castle? We went through a lavatory!" One young, masculine voice cried out. "Are you sure you're not just being perverted?"

"Silence yourself. Sinbad knows what he's doing, trust in him." Another male stated.

Harry smirked. If they had gone down, like many others had, this group would have been crushed under the collapsing walls. Or drowned under the lake. They might have even run into the Snipes' nesting grounds, which were placed where the Slytherin common room would have been.

"See, he was right. This is what you get for doubting him." The second man stated as they entered his cavern.

The group was silent as they took in his lounging form. He was on his side, his head resting in his hand as he watched them enter the Chamber of Secrets. He was dressed in a sparkling black flowing sheer fabric that wrapped around his chest. His giant green legs were hidden by a thick black puffy pants, though his feet stuck out noticeably. His free hand gently petted Snape, who snapped open his eyes at the unfamiliar voices. The other creatures turned their attention to the intruders.

One of the men stepped forward, dressed in a multitude of jewelry. The man grinned up at Harry's watching form and the djinn stared at the purple eyes that were revealed to him.

"Well, well, well." Harry mused as the other men eyed the creatures hesitantly. "What do we have here, my children? Thieves?"

"Hardly," the strange man laughed. "We're adventurers! We merely seek to travel the world and achieve our dreams!"

"Oh?" Harry's grin widened. "And how to you plan to do that, Stranger-With-The-Eyes-Of-A-King?"

The rest of the assembly tittered at his name for their leader. His children watched them cautiously, waiting for the moment they posed a threat.

"I will gather all of the power in the world and unite everyone under one power."

Harry tilted his large head back and laughed loudly. His long black braid flew with his amusement and his creations snickered with him.

"And, I am to assume you are here for my power as well, Dungeon Conqueror, King's Candidate?" Harry pushed himself up to sit crossed legged before his guests, displacing even more of his creations. They merely grunted and repositioned themselves, eyes locked on the strong looking men before them.

"My power has to come from somewhere," the man acknowledged.

"And yet, you already have seven other djinn at your disposal. You must be quite the man to control them all." Harry lowered his eyelids to gaze at the human meaningfully. The King's Candidate only grinned, totally unashamed.

"I am more than man enough to tame you as well," he leered.

"THIS IS NOT THE TIME FOR FLIRTING," the second voice that Harry had heard earlier cried out. He blinked at the white haired teen who had spoken. The rukh muttered about a life of darkness and being saved. Marking the boy as interesting, he turned his attention back to the King's Candidate.

"Sorry, sorry, Ja'far." The man waved it off with a laugh.

"Technically," Harry interrupted. "You're already have far too many djinn at your command."

The man at least had the decently to look chastised.

"And yet, you stand before me, asking for another weapon." Harry's grin could not stretch further.

One of the men opened their mouths, stepping forward to say something or other. Harry really didn't care.

"I like it!" he exclaimed. He met the smaller man's gaze with his own, seeing the determination and potential that was already blossoming. "You should keep in mind, my King, three things if you want me as your tool."

"Tool isn't the right wor-" Harry ignored him, foraging on.

"If you claim me, then you will never be able to enter another Dungeon, ever again," Harry talked over their questions, not even listening to them. "I am not like the other Djinn, it takes a different type of person to control me. I will serve you faithfully, but I will not be tamed. I am chaos at its finest."

Harry stopped, taking in the silence and the man's steely look.

"What do you say, Sinbad of the Seven Seas?" Harry reached out his hand eagerly.

"I accept any and all consequences of claiming you," the look in Sinbad's eyes caused Harry to shift in excitement. The purple haired man stretched out his hand to grip Harry's green pinky finger.

Nothing happened and Sinbad's men shifted uncomfortably.

"Ah, now what?" one of them asked. Once the silence was broken, a loud ripping sound echoed through the cavern. Harry's creations and comrades for so long dissolved into dust, leaving Harry alone with the men in the dank room.

As the men freaked out, Harry lurched his large body forward, falling towards Sinbad. The man, surprised, unsheathed his sword to point it at Harry's falling body.

Green mist erupted from his form as the body faded. By the time he reached Sinbad's battle ready body, Harry had transformed into his smaller, human, form. He landed delicately in front of his new master and lifted his tanned hand to knock aside Baal's Metal Vessel.

At all of the gapping looks, Harry chuckled. "I did say I was different, did I not?"

They nodded dumbly and Harry leaned towards his King, wrapping his arms around the man's broad shoulders to press against him.

The man gulped as Harry pressed his body onto the other's own. Still covered in his sheer fabric and puffy pants, the djinn looked similar to a male belly dancer. Noticeable only to his subordinates who stood behind him, Sinbad fisted his shaking hands.

"As a djinn, my name is Handras, of chaos, deception, and creation. I will lend you my power, Sinbad, to achieve your dreams." Harry whispered into his King's ear. He delighted in the shiver that ran across the man's skin. "In this form, you may call me Haides." The dubbed 'Haides' snickered lightly. "Now, to leave this dreary place," he muttered, raising his hand slightly.

"Wait, what about your Metal Vessel," one of the man, a tall giant with blue hair, asked.

"That's right!" Sinbad exclaimed. "I have a bracelet that yo-!"

"No need," Haides cut in. "What part of 'different from other djinn' don't you understand?" he huffed, stepping away from his King. He pretended not to see the man's relief at his action.

"You mean, you can't just turn…into a human?" another man hesitantly questioned him.

"It would be rather boring if that was all I could do," Haides remarked. "No, I'm so different from my fellows, that they would rather not even mention me. Which is why I, and any King of mine, am forbidden from entering their Dungeons. They're nitpicky like that, the twats." Haides's eyes narrowed, annoyed. "You demolish one castle, and they blame you for all of eternity. Wasn't even my fault in the first place."

"Ah, then, what do you want as a Vessel?" Sinbad inquired.

Instead of answering, Haides reached forward and placed his hand right over his King's heart. A golden glow shimmered around his hand and the King's Candidate harshly bit his lip to suppress the pain. "As you have accepted me as your vassal, I accept you as my King. May we now be one, Sinbad."

Haides removed his hand, knowing that his eight pointed star was burned right above Sinbad's heart. With a grin, he dodged his King's Household.

"What did you do?!"

"Sinbad, are you awake, you idiot?"

Haides danced away from their weapons. Winking, Haides disappeared, leaving only his laughter to echo with his last statement.

"This is going to be _fun._"

* * *

**It's kinda badly written, cause we still don't know a lot about Sinbad's adventures. I mean, we're only just seeing Drakon again! There's still a number of Sinbad's companions that we have yet to meet and I don't know how many of them would travel with him. So, the only ones confirmed here are Hinahoho and Ja'far. And, since we don't know if Sinbad gets all Seven of his Metal Vessels before or after forming Sindria, I left that out as well. (Not to mention that we still don't know a lot about the Magi universe in general.)**

**But, yeah, Djinn!Harry.**

**If I continue this, the main pairing will definitely be Sinbad/Harry. But, Harry and Sinbad are flirts, so they'll just be all over the place. Admittedly, Sinbad will focus on women more than men and Harry will focus more on men than women. **

**Okay, so I did a lot of research for this. The names of the Djinn's all come from Demons, generally from the Lesser Key of Solomon. Handras, basically Andras with an 'H', just seemed to fit Harry. Hopefully, an Andras doesn't appear in Magi in the future…but yeah, even Harry's new name, Haides, is there for a reason. Djinn basically means 'unseen'. Haides means 'unseen' in Greek as well as being an alternate name for Hades, connecting to Harry's Master of Death title. I debated between Haides and Hari, 'he who takes away' and another name for Vishnu, but I figured Harry would have a sense of humor and ask to be called Haides when in his 'human form'. If anyone really dislikes it, I can change it to the more 'traditional' Hari. (Harry has two names mainly cause I'm dramatic and I like the idea of the djinn muttering angrily about 'Handras' to their Kings and no one connecting it to Haides.)**

**Anyway, my Magi x HP fics first chapter! I hope everyone enjoyed it! Not sure when I'll update this again, but it'll probably be before May 10th at the latest. **


	2. Chapter 2

**Oh, don't mind me, I'm just curled up in a corner blushing like a tomato. Cause, holy shit. It didn't take long for this to blow up. I just can't believe so many people read this. **

**This chapter is a bit serious, but it's needed for the plot to continue on.**

**(Since this chapter is more plot than amusing, I figured I would upload it sooner rather than later. That way, you'll get the funny chapter before too long)**

**I don't own Magi or Adventures of Sinbad or Harry Potter.**

* * *

Haides was more than willing to admit that he spent the next hand full of months sleeping. One thing Ugo had never mentioned about being a djinn was that, without a vessel, they couldn't sleep. So, since Haides was so different from his fellow djinn, he didn't have a vessel, meaning no sleep, for the last thousand or so years. Excuse him for being a little tired.

Haides stirred from within his seal, brushing his consciousness lightly against his King's.

The startled yelp of the purple haired man caused the djinn to snap open his eyes.

Awake, he glanced around his host's soul. He tilted his metaphysical head, grinning as he watched two different colors of rukh twirling around inside his King. Haides couldn't contain his snicker, he just knew this man would be amusing!

"Sinbad?" Haides heard, echoing through the area he was resting in.

"It just felt like someone poked me," Haides' King muttered.

Haides blinked and grinned. He brushed his energy against his King's again, chuckling at his shiver of discomfort.

"I swear, someone's messing with me," Sinbad murmured.

And, as amusing as this was for Haides, he was curious as to what he had missed. Haides stretched his metaphysical arms, carefully avoiding touching Sinbad's energy. He hummed and tapped into the power of his seal.

Haides glowed as he was transported out of his vessel, materializing behind the standing King. In front of the purple-haired man, stood four men.

Haides slouched behind his King, waiting for someone to notice his presence.

"Sin," the white-haired teen that Haides remembered from his Dungeon warned, catching sight of the djinn.

Sinbad tensed and Haides snickered. They all reached for their weapons, but Haides was not in the mood to fight. He draped himself over his King's broad shoulders, resting his head on the man's collarbone.

"Looks like you're having fun without me, my King," Haides breathed into the tense man's ear.

"Haides," Sinbad acknowledged. Haides smirked at the frown he could just barely see tugging at the man's lips. "It has been awhile."

"Five months, I believe," Haides shrugged.

"Sinbad, if you could introduce us?" Haides looked up, eyeing the four men.

Two of them were familiar, he remembered them from his Dungeon. The white-haired teen who noticed his presence almost immediately and the blue-haired giant. Haides barely refrained from licking his lips at the leashed chaos he could feel inside of the younger boy.

The other two, however, were unfamiliar to Haides. One of them appeared to be a humanoid dragon while the second man was lean, with brown hair hidden behind a feathered turban.

"Hm, you keep such interesting company, my King," Haides informed the man he was wrapped around. Sinbad didn't answer him, choosing to smile at his companions instead. Haides narrowed his eyes.

"My comrades, this is Haides, my eighth djinn."

The two strangers blinked in surprise. They turned to the other two men, who nodded at their silent question.

"I thought you had dreamed it all up," the humanoid dragon admitted. The brunette nodded in agreement, smiling sheepishly.

"Wha?" Sinbad sputtered.

The white haired teen shrugged, "if I hadn't been there, I'd think so too."

"You too, Ja'far? Hinahoho?"

The blue haired man nodded sheepishly.

Haides grinned, tightening his grip around the sulking King's Candidate. "Introductions are in order, don't you think?" Haides locked his poison green eyes with Sinbad's amber pair.

"Right." The man shifted, going from comical to serious in a moment. The four subordinates straightened at his change. "Haides, this is Ja'far, Hinahoho, Drakon, and Mystras. They are my subordinates. My friends, this is Haides, the human form of the Chaos Djinn, Handras."

"It's a pleasure to meet those I will be serving with," Haides purred, eyeing the men up and down. "Tell me, my King, what have I missed?"

Haides was sure that the strong man did not appreciate being told what to do, but he seemed to believe that Haides was more powerful than him and agreed easily.

"We are currently in the palace of Sindria, my country. It is still small, but I am achieving my dream. Since you disappeared, we have gathered more comrades and have decided to rest at the palace for a short time." Sinbad summarized, shifting his shoulders under Haides' weight.

The djinn rolled his eyes, but let go of his King, sliding down his back until he felt his bare feet touch the ground. With a practiced motion, he spun around the King to stand in front of him.

He watched three pairs of eyebrows raise at his appearance.

Haides was still wearing his black sheer top and his puffy pants, the clothes having shrunk with his body. He was tanned and his long black hair was braided so that it whipped around with his movements. His poison green eyes were piercing, only highlighted by his long lashes. Haides liked to think he looked pretty awesome, so he wasn't surprised that they were staring. Sheba had done the same thing the first time they met.

"He's really short." Ja'far noted. The other men nodded with him, cupping their chins.

"Sinbad towers over him," Drakon remarked.

"He's like a child," Hinahoho mused.

"I will murder all of you," Haides hissed. He took a step forward, only to be blocked by Sinbad. The taller, but so much younger, man wrapped his arm around Haides and lifted him into the air.

"Hey, hey, they're just kidding, Haides," Sinbad laughed nervously. "No need to hurt them."

"5' 1" is a perfectly respectable height!" Haides shrieked, scratching his dull nails against Sinbad's muscled arm.

"Ah, we didn't mean to offend you, little guy," Hinahoho amended himself.

Haides calmed, glaring at the four men before him.

"See, they're sorry, Haides," Sinbad set him back down. "What do you say in return?"

"You better fucking sleep with one eye open, bastards." Haides pouted, crossing his arms petulantly.

They chuckled; Haides looked far too much like a disgruntled child to be taken seriously. He narrowed his eyes. Fine, he'll show them. Then they'll see who's childish.

"Hey, Stupid King," Sinbad sputtered, staring down at his previously respectful djinn. Haides glared up at him. "I need a room."

"A room? Why don't you just live inside your Vessel like other djinns?" Drakon questioned.

Haides refused to look at the humanoid, but responded anyway. "As I have stated three times now, I am different from other djinn. My King is my Vessel. But, if you want me living inside you, watching everything you do, I'd be more than happy to oblige." Haides grinned, taking a step closer to his King. He placed his hands lightly on the man's muscles, fanning his fingers out to feel as much of the warm skin as he could.

Sinbad coughed, snapping one hand up to grab both of Haides' wandering hands. The djinn's smile only widened at his action. One of the men shifted uncomfortably.

"It seems the Womanizer of the Seven Seas has an admirer," Mystras laughed.

"Mystras!" Sinbad whined as his other companions laughed. Haides tilted his head, taking in the scene in front of him. Sinbad was completely different from the scholarly Solomon, but he had the same ability of making allies out of the strangest people.

"My room?" Haides interrupted. The five men blinked down at him.

"Right," Sinbad muttered. "Ah, Ja'far, if you could?"

The white-haired teen nodded obediently, stepping forward. "If you could follow me, Master Haides."

Haides gave the four other men one last look, his eyes lingering on his new King for a moment before following the teenager.

They travelled in silence for a moment.

"I don't know why you decided to follow Sin," Ja'far started. "But, if you betray him, you'll have all of us to deal with." The teen paused, turning to stare the djinn down. The deadly look in his eyes, the eyes of a killer, caused Haides to shiver in excitement.

"You forget," Haides took a step forward, so that he was nose to nose with the former assassin. "That I am something not human. Nothing in this world can kill me. Everything I do, everything, is for my own amusement and gain. Never doubt that, boy."

"And what do you gain from accepting Sin as your King?" Ja'far took a step back, wanting space to observe Sinbad's eighth djinn. A truly strange djinn at that.

"The rukh whisper about the future of this world. I want to see it with my own eyes. The wars and death that await us all, I refuse to be left out." Haides grinned maliciously.

"What a devil you are," Ja'far snarled, his hands clenched around his Household Vessel.

"Ah, ah, ah," Haides wagged his finger at Ja'far. "I don't think our King would be happy if you attacked your comrade. I have pledged myself to him, after all."

Ja'far glared at Haides' laughing eyes.

A distant giggle interrupted their stare off.

Haides blinked, looking off towards the side where the sound came from. From around the corner came a group of girls, wrapped in loose, soft fabrics. The five girls were whispering to themselves, tittering as they passed the two men. One eyed Haides' outfit with a fascinated look, nudging the brunette next to her. Soon, all of the girls were staring at Ja'far and Haides, craning their heads to watch even as they passed by.

"Dancers," Haides breathed with a grin. He relaxed, smiling genuinely. "Ja'far, right?" His poison green eyes caught the tail end of one of the girl's outfits as they turned another corner and went out of sight.

"Yes," Ja'far straightened at the djinn question. "What is it, Master Haides?"

"Place me in a room with the Court Dancers," he ordered the young man.

Ja'far blinked in shock. "But, Sinbad-!"

"I don't really care what our King would say," Haides informed his companion. "I want to work with the dancers. It'll keep me amused."

Ja'far sighed, but agreed. He directed the djinn down the hall the girls had come from. Haides waved him off when the teenager offered to walk him the entire way. He knew the advisor wanted to inform his King of Haides' decision.

It really didn't matter to the djinn. He enjoyed dancing and he would always be amused around with the Court Dancers. He would be able to enter Court events without suspicion and get close to foreign dignitaries.

And Solomon said that Haides couldn't plan ahead to save his life. Haides would show him, that damn charismatic bookworm.

Alone in the dark hallway of Sinbad's palace, Haides stopped. He frowned, looking up, catching sight of a passing white rukh.

While Haides enjoyed his chaos and did whatever he wanted, there was a reason that he decided to rise his Dungeon and accept Sinbad.

"Arba," he hissed. "Don't think I can't feel you. Your tainted fingers have already stained this world." His poison green eyes sparked angrily. "I can't allow you to live, not after what you did to King Solomon, Queen Sheba, and Prince Aladdin. I will help Sinbad tear down everything you have worked for. I warned you, Arba. You don't fuck with the Master of Death. Death is not something you can ever escape."

Haides swung out his hand, smashing it against the nearest wall. He ignored the crater that he created or the startled shouting of the nearby Court Dancers.

"I swear, I will find you. And I will kill you."

Haides didn't move, even as Sinbad and his comrades arrived on the scene. He continued to glare at the ceiling.

Arba's mocking laugh rang in his head and Sheba's mutilated body flashed behind his eyes.

"I will never forgive you, Arba."

* * *

**Okay, I actually rewatched about 1/3 of Magi in hopes of getting facts more inline. So, Mogamett describes Sindria a young country. Imma say it's about ten years old. Yamraiha has been with Sinbad for about ten years. So, Imma say that she joined him a little while after the country was formed. In this story, Sindria is a few months old right now. Haides' Dungeon gave the Sindrian Trading Company the rest of the money they needed to buy the Island. So, a good number of people aren't involved yet. People like Sharrkan, Masrur, and Yamraiha aren't there at the moment. The population is still rather small, but it gets bigger every day. I'd say that the Court Dancers are former slaves that Sinbad offered a better job too. But, since they only really know sexual favors, it's either the red light district or being a Court Dancer for them. So, Sinbad is about 20 in this story. In Adventures of Sinbad, he's sixteen right now. Imma give him that year of training with the Yambala Warriors and three more years of traveling and gaining allies. That means I have ten years to let Haides run wild before we really get into the plot of Magi. **

**Imma admit now that Imma make a lot of assumptions throughout this story. Since there's a lot we still don't know, Imma be making it up as I go. In the future, I might rewrite this so it's accurate, but right now, I'm going on what I know and my personal headcanons. Sorry!**

**(No one is allowed to complain about Haides' height. I did my research and everything. At 18 years old, a malnourished male is estimated to be 5' 0". And in canon, Harry is described as short until the Deathly Hallows. Daniel Radcliffe is about 5' 5", so Haides is gonna be 5' 1" a little below the average height of a woman.)**

**Anyway, yeah, Haides really hates Arba. He's not gonna go after her, instead he's gonna let her think she's gotten away with what she's done. But, Haides will speak with her and make it very, very, clear that he's gonna destroy everything she has worked for and make her regret her betrayal. **

**Also, yay, more Haides! And his calling as a Court Dancer~ I can't wait to write the next chapter. It's full of Haides' revenge. He's either gonna talk to his fellow djinn next chapter or the one after that…Either way, it'll be fun!**

**I hope everyone enjoyed this chapter!**


	3. Chapter 3

**The number of story ideas that are running around my head is ridiculous. Is this what being a writer means?**

**Anyway, this chapter is serious again, unfortunately. But, Haides talks to the other djinn briefly. So there's that. He will have more conversations with them of course. Though, most of the conversations that Haides has with his past will be rather one sided. **

**I don't own Magi, Adventures of Sinbad, or Harry Potter. **

* * *

"How was your night with the Court Dancers, Haides?" Sinbad smiled cordially from the head of the breakfast table. The other occupants of the room glanced around in confusion, some looking for Haides and others wondering who he was.

Haides smirked, spinning around the corner of the door where he had been lurking. Sinbad's Court members started at his appearance.

"They haven't really accepted me yet, but it won't take too long. They are good girls, they'll see reason soon enough." Haides explained, taking an empty seat near the King. He snatched up some delicious looking foods from the platters.

Eyeing the table down, Haides didn't see a single familiar food. He resolved to speak with the Court Chiefs immediately. There was no way he was living here for an unforeseen amount of time without treacle tart.

"Sinbad, who is this?" Haides blinked, pausing from stuffing his face. The woman next to him, blonde and pale, smiled down at him in disgust.

"This is Haides," he informed her. "He is someone who has my absolute trust."

At their King's words, everyone turned to look at Haides. He got the feeling they were disappointed when he blinked at them, his checks puffed like a chipmunk.

"I see you changed your clothes, Master Haides," Ja'far noted.

Haides swallowed and chanced a look down. His sheer outfit was now a leaf green, a few shades lighter than his poison eyes. The black puffy pants were replaced with green silk loose pants, with loose sheer tendrils that lashed out when he moved. Gold coins hung from his outfit, clicking together. He shrugged.

"If I'm going to be a Court Dancer, I'm going to do it right." The woman next to him laughed mockingly.

"It seems you're taking an example from Artemyra, King Sinbad. I hope the women under your employ whip the brat into shape." She rested her chin in her hand, staring down at the djinn. Haides gritted his teeth and glanced over at his King.

Sinbad was watching with a patient smile.

Haides smirked. His King had yet to give him any ground rules, but the djinn assumed that since he hadn't told the rest of his Court exactly who he was, that Haides shouldn't clue then in. Everything else was forfeit though.

"Do you doubt King Sinbad? I really don't think that the King would allow a simple Court Dancer to dine with the rest of his Court. Tell me, who do you think I am?" Haides snickered. He stood lazily and swayed to Sinbad's side. He leaned over, resting his lips by Sinbad's ear and placed his hand on the man's shoulder, smirking as the King tensed.

"What is it, Haides?" Sinbad commanded, after Haides just rested in that position, watching the startled reactions of the Court in amusement.

"I do believe that we need to have a conversation, my King," Haides muttered.

Sinbad nodded. "I will have Ja'far collect you once we are done eating."

Haides found this agreeable and pulled away from Sinbad. He sashayed his way out of the room, pausing at the exit to address the room. He slipped a look over his shoulder, his burning eyes sweeping across the crowd, memorizing each face.

"Till next time then," and then he left, sweeping through the halls like a seductive spirit.

Ja'far sighed, taking in everyone's questions about their newest comrade. He eyed Sinbad's calm composure as he answered.

"What have you unleashed now, Sin?" he wondered.

* * *

Instead of returning to the Dancers' Room, Haides decided to roam around the rest of the castle as he waited. It was truly beautiful, though nowhere as magical as Hogwarts had been, once upon a time.

He turned a corner and found himself on a balcony overlooking the Island Kingdom of Sindria.

Haides looked down at the flourishing nation with dead eyes. The white rukh flew around the Kingdom, sparkling with the happiness of the inhabitants. One of the white ethereal birds noticed him and flew closer.

Haides lifted a hand, extending a finger for the rukh to rest its weightless body on.

He kept still, listening to the whispers of the rukh. He learned of the country that was founded by a poor fisherman from Parthevia. How he fought and struggled for everything that he had. He listened as Sinbad worked for his dream, stumbling and learning as he went. Once the story was told, as well as some other useful pieces of information, the rukh flew away to rejoin its brethren.

"Solomon, is this the world that you dreamed of?" Haides murmured. The wind blew across the balcony, causing his hair and the tendrils of his outfit to flutter around his body. The coins clanked together loudly.

Haides hummed in acknowledgment.

"You don't want me to interfere, huh." He smiled dully. "Are you proud of this world then? Even as they make the same mistakes as your father? Don't think I can't feel your frown from here."

The wind blew stronger, tugging at his clothes roughly.

"Pervert," Haides giggled. The wind stopped immediately, kicking up dirt instead, swirling it around his feet.

Haides just stood, basking in his First King's attention.

* * *

"Master Haides?" Haides snapped open his eyes, coming face to face with Ja'far. He took a moment to reorient himself, realizing that he had been standing in on the balcony for almost an hour. And here he had been planning to get back that those fools that called him a child while they were enjoying their breakfast.

Solomon just had to distract him, that meddling fool.

"My apologies. I was distracted." Haides informed the younger man, who smiled pleasantly at him.

"That's fine. I just came to gather you for Sin, he asks for your presence in his office," Ja'far told the djinn.

"Lead the way then, Ja'far," Haides said, throwing out his arm welcomingly.

"You sure caused a scene at breakfast," Ja'far commented as they walked. He glanced at Haides, who was smiling softly.

"Chaos is my specialty after all," Haides reminded the former assassin. They were silent for a moment.

"Is there something wrong?" Ja'far questioned. "You seemed pained when I found you."

Haides furrowed his brow, opening his mouth to respond. But, he was interrupted, rudely if he did say so himself.

"Ah, you got him, Ja'far," Sinbad smiled, about to step into a room a little ways away from them. "If the two of you could join us then?"

Haides frowned and sped up. He bypassed Ja'far and Sinbad, marching into the King's office without a word to either men. The two left behind exchanged a look.

Haides stopped to look around as his two companions followed in after him. Standing around the room were already five members of Sinbad's Court. He recognized each of them for one reason or another. He had to admit, he was happy to see two of the five were women.

Sinbad passed Haides and strolled to the desk, situating himself in the regal chair. He tented his hands on top of his desk and smiled genuinely at everyone. Ja'far positioned himself behind the King, standing at the ready.

"I am sorry to call upon all of you, my friends," he began. Haides watched as everyone straightened up at their King's words. "However, I felt that it was best if you knew the truth of your newest comrade."

The gathered individuals exchanged looks while the three Haides had already meet turned to him. Sinbad waved him forward.

Haides glided his way to the front of the room, weaving between the taller figures.

"Haides, if you would?" Haides smirked at the challenging sparkle in Sinbad's eyes.

"My name is Haides, at least in this form. I am truly the Chaos Djinn, Handras, Sinbad's eighth and final djinn. I have the ability to take human form among other things. I do so hope that you'll take good care of me as we work together to achieve our King's dreams." Haides bowed, sweeping his arms out like wings as he did so.

"A djinn?" one of the woman muttered disbelievingly. She walked forward till she was right in front of him. She crouched down as Haides straightened up. "I can't feel any rukh in you at all."

A smile bloomed across Haides' face. "A magician?" he whispered with glee. He could deal with magicians, most of his former friends were magicians.

"No rukh what so ever?" Mystras asked in shock.

"Shouldn't he be dead then?" Hinahoho continued his comrade's train of thought easily.

"He should be," the magician woman agreed. "And yet, he isn't."

Haides scoffed. "Of course I'm not dead." He remarked. He canted his hips and crossed his arms in annoyance. "As if a magician could feel the power of a djinn, I'm actually a little insulted."

The woman narrowed her eyes. Haides hid a wince. He should know better than to challenge a magician, those bookworms were painfully prideful of their abilities.

"I can feel the rukh of King Sinbad's other djinn. Just not you."

Haides decided to cut this off before they asked to give him a medical check. He might look human, but there were more than enough anomalies with his vitals to ever be classified as his original species ever again.

"I'm different from other djinn," Haides admitted. He continued quickly, seeing the woman opening her mouth to ask for more information. "Since it seems you won't believe me, I'll give you proof."

Haides really didn't want to, but not only did he need his King's Court on his side, he also needed to settle any issues right now.

"And how do you plan on doing that?" Sinbad asked, curious.

"Easily," Haides shrugged. He eyed the King up for a moment and nodded in satisfaction.

"Well?" the magician folded her arms.

"Sahel-" Drakon tried to pacify his fiancé.

"Baal! Focalor! Vepar! Zepar! Crocell! Furfur! Valefor! Assholes, get your blue cabooses out here! I want to have words with you bastards! Don't you dare leave me waiting!" Haides shouted, pointing dramatically at Sinbad. Each of his Metal Vessels glowed in response to Haides.

Three djinn appeared before the shocked crowd. Well, two giant blue bodies and a vicious looking blue canine.

"Dammit, Valefor, Baal, Focalor! I wanted to speak with all seven of you!" Haides shouted, stomping a foot once in disappointment.

The three ignored their fellow djinn for a moment to bow subserviently to their chosen King.

"We apologize for appearing as such, King Sinbad. However, Handras is part of our responsibility and should we not have answered his call, the Man-Child would have thrown a tempter tantrum that might have destroyed your hard earned palace." Baal informed his King.

The humans looked at Haides in astonishment. He shrugged. "I deny nothing."

With the formalities out of the way, the three djinn turned to the Master of Death.

"I had truly hoped that I had been wrong when I felt your presence, Handras." Baal stated.

Haides gritted his teeth. "Baal, you asshole…"

"However, as always, it is nice to see a familiar face," the Lightning Djinn admitted.

"Even if that familiar face is a horrible monster given flesh," Valefor finished with a catty grin.

"We had prayed that you would never be released, Handras," Focalor sighed, eyeing the group of humans.

"Well, thanks so much for telling me how you really feel," Haides snapped.

Valefor laughed. "Since when do you care? You've only cared about King Solomon, everyone else was just baggage to you, Handras."

Haides shrugged, feeling many different pairs of burning eyes on him. "Be sure never to forget that, you three."

"But," Baal interjected. "That only makes your acceptance of King Sinbad all the more confusing to us."

Valefor and Focalor nodded in agreement.

"Perhaps," Valefor smirked maliciously. "You have finally gained that heart that Solomon tried to find for you."

Haides fisted his hands as his body started shaking in anger. Sinbad and Ja'far exchanged a look, deciding not to interfere. They would let this play out. Sinbad's Court followed his example, keeping quiet and observing.

"No," Baal stated. "Handras, that hatred in your heart." Haides froze, a twist look of pure rage staining his face. Baal sighed sadly. "While she is the catalsyt, hating will only give her what she wants. Ar-!"

Haides snarled immediately, clawing his hand through the air violently in the direction of the three djinn. They dissipated instantly, each frowning at the pissed off humanoid djinn.

"Do not," Haides hissed at the empty space, his eyes glowing with the force of his hatred. "Do not ever say her name in front of me."

He spun around, his clothing snapped behind him as he stalked out of the room. The five men and two women waited in silence as the doors slammed closed loudly.

"Well," Sinbad clapped his hands together. "That was interesting."

"And informative," Ja'far added.

"We can safely say that Haides is a djinn," Sahel stated, her eyes still locked on empty space where Haides had been standing moment before.

"It appears as if Haides has a purpose for accepting you, Sinbad," Hinahoho commented with a frown.

"Yes, we knew that much already," Sinbad nodded solemnly. "And it seems that the other djinn know this reason. This 'she' is the source of Haides' outburst yesterday and his hatred today."

"'Arba', that's the name he said last night," Drakon revealed.

"Arba, huh?" Sinbad mused. "It makes sense that we wouldn't recognize it, since she's connected to the djinn."

"Should we ask Haides then," Mystras asked. Sinbad shook his head, but Rurumu answered the young Knight.

"He wouldn't answer. We have no idea how long he has been stewing in his anger towards this woman. We do not want a djinn to turn against us because we could not keep our curiosity," the mother of four stated.

"However," Sinbad continued. "If he is connected to King Solomon…"

The air in the office suddenly got heavy.

Sinbad's amber eyes sharpened to a piercing gold. "Then he is against Al Thaman."

* * *

**Okay, this is the last 'set up the plot chapter'! Thank goodness. I don't really like this chapter, but it gets the job done. Next chapter, we see Haides getting revenge against Ja'far, Hinahoho, Drakon, and Mystras. Laughter and joy, with only a hint of rage towards Arba. Cause Haides really hates Arba. **

**Now, there is a reason only those three djinn appeared. One, as large as that office is, there is no damn way it can fit all of those humans and seven other huge ass djinn. Just no. Two, we still know nothing about Sinbad's four other djinn and I don't wanna write something that's gonna come back to bite me in the ass. And three, I just can't deal with so many people needing to have a say. **

**The talking to rukh thing - Haides is getting snippets of the whole story, usually nothing recent. For the 'Country of Souls', time really doesn't have a meaning. So, Haides can learn the past and the present from the rukh, but not always the things that he wanted to learn. **

**About Aladdin. It's been thousands of years for Haides and all he knows it that Aladdin is under Ugo's care. For all he knows, Aladdin has died already. But, he'll be surprised~**

**In Sinbad's office is Hinahoho, Rurumu, Drakon, Sehal, Sinbad, Ja'far, Mystras, and Haides. For Rurumu, I've decided that she has about six children before she dies, so right now she has four. **

**Guest Reviewer Responses:**

**Momogi - Haha, I'm glad you like it! Admittedly, Harry Potter is a good place to start when looking for crossovers. Plus, Harry is such a fun character to play around with. **

**(BELLY DANCER OUTFITS ARE REALLY HARD TO DESCRIBE FOR SOME REASON.)**

**(In case anyone didn't catch it, the blonde woman was a representative from Artemyra, the person before Pisti.)**

**I hope everyone enjoyed this chapter!**


	4. Chapter 4

**I have absolutely no excuse. So, instead, enjoy this chapter!**

**I don't own Harry Potter, Adventures of Sinbad, or Magi.**

* * *

Haides stomped down the open hallway, a cloud of rage hanging over his head. The servants watched in worry as he stalked passed. He ignored them as they started to whisper to each other.

"Screw Baal," Haides muttered. "Screw Baal and Focalor and Valefor and Amon and Paimon and all of them." Haides stopped in the middle of the corridor, the cloud booming and flashing above them. One of the younger servants squeaked and ducked behind a large pillar. Haides didn't notice, his attention off in the distance.

Sure, he favored Solomon over all of the other humans he had been in contact with. Sure, he would have burned the world at Solomon's whim, the child was just so charismatic. Sure, Haides had a temper equivalent to a toddler. But, to so brazenly bring up the woman that had ruined everything and tore Solomon's hard earned dream to shreds because of her own insanity? Baal should really know better.

Haides was angry, just like every other time he heard the woman's name. But, he was also tired. He could feel her taint on Solomon's world, feel her trying to bring it to ruin. Haides just couldn't find her, her influence too wide spread. The djinn was angry and tired and frustrated.

So, like any son of a Marauder, older than his current dimension or not, Haides plotted.

He couldn't pinpoint Arba's location, but he knew exactly where those that had insulted him were. And, since all of them were busy discussing Haides and his comrades with his King, the djinn had no doubt that their rooms were empty and unguarded.

"Hey, servant," Haides called with a grin. The servants, hidden in the shadows like good little children, shuffled nervously. Finally, one stepped forward. She was older than the former savior's current appearance, seemingly in her thirties (Haides wasn't really sure how the humans in Solomon's new world aged. The pretentious brat's egotistical father had been over 800 when Arba first flipped her shit, after all.).

"How can I help you, my Lord?" Haides snickered briefly at the woman's respectful bow.

"Call me Haides, since I'm sure we will be getting own each other during my stay here. You are?" he asked, continuing forward. As he walked, the servant trailed a step behind. The concerned murmurs of the attentive shadows only caused Haides' grin to grow. Yeah, he was going to like it here. It already reminded him so much of his home dimension.

"My name is Salma, Lord Haides," the woman bowed her head as she followed him. Haides hummed in acknowledgement.

"Salma, where can I find the rooms of those close to my King?" he asked her. Salma hesitated, her duty warring with her uncertainty. Haides noticed and rolled his poison green eyes. "I am to be the Head of the Court Dancers, Salma," he explained.

Salma's expression cleared, her suspicion disappearing in an instant. "I do hope you do better than the previous Head," she remarked. "Lady Talitha was too gentle for the role bestowed upon her." While the words were kind, the servant's displeased tone gave away her true feelings on the matter.

"She was given power that she wasn't ready for just because she was pretty," Haides mused. It wasn't an entirely bad tactic, expected even. If the prettiest dancer was in charge, then the other girls were likely to fall in line. Plus, it wouldn't make sense for beauty to be low on the food chain. Intelligence usually took a backseat to looks.

Haides was going to change that. He had lived long enough to value knowledge above all else. He would twist the dancers that would soon fall in line under him into weapons for their country. They could be so much more than mere objects to satisfy a man's lust.

The hall was silent as they walked. Haides could feel the burning of curious eyes, but as they got closer to the King's bedchamber, the servants blended seamlessly with the shadows.

"Here we are, Lord Haides. The entrance to the Purple Leo Tower," Salma bowed her head as Haides took in the large, purple stained door that led to his current form of entertainment.

"Thank you for assistance, Salma," Haides grinned. "I will remember your help. It might be best if you forgot about it, though."

Salma blinked in confusion, but kept her head bowed as Haides gently pushed open the door. This new addition to the Court was strange, but she could practically taste change in the air. He was someone that Salma knew she could trust. She didn't think twice as she walked away from the Purple Leo Tower, the quarters of King Sinbad's most trusted.

"Now," Haides chuckled to himself. "Let's unleash some chaos on these humans, Solomon."

The purple door snapped shut with a strong gush of wind.

* * *

"Are you sure it was a good idea to let Master Haides go off on his own, Sin?" Ja'far spoke up when the discussion on Al Thaman's latest actions came to a close. Everyone else had left the King's office, having expected the Royal Advisor to want a word with Sinbad.

Sinbad clasped his hands together, resting them lightly on his desk. "That he is in the palace speaks for itself. None of the guards or servants will attack our new comrade." The man stood, turning to face his friend. Ja'far sighed.

"That wasn't what I meant," he muttered. Sinbad titled his head in confusion.

"What are you so worried about?" the King wondered. Last he had seen, the two seemed to get along. But, Ja'far genuinely was concerned about the other man being alone in the palace.

"He claims to be the embodiment of chaos, doesn't that concern you at all?" Ja'far asked. The djinn unnerved the teen. He could feel the restrained chaos that bubbled behind Haides' skin, could feel as it reached out to test the mental strength of those around the djinn.

The fact the former assassin seemed to have passed the test did nothing to ease him.

"We are a rather chaotic force ourselves, are we not?" Sinbad responded. Ja'far snapped his attention to the taller man. "Our goal is to uproot the current system of the world. Plus, I like to think of chaos as change. Having the embodiment of change in a country as young as Sindria can only be a good thing."

"Sometimes, I think you're too trusting…"Ja'far trailed off, hearing a strange sound outside of the office. The duo exchanged concerned looks, wondering if the commotion was connected with the subject of their conversation.

"King Sinbad!" a servant called after pausing to knock politely. Ja'far found the action unnecessary. Obviously, something was going on, so why not barge into the room and save the wasted time. Manners had no place in a crisis.

"Come in," Sinbad commanded, straightening up threateningly.

The servant that entered was a middle aged woman, who glanced around uncertainly. She didn't fidget in nervousness, but she refused to look at her monarch.

"What is the commotion?" Sinbad asked in a gentle tone, trying to the ease the woman's nerves.

"Lord Haides has…" she trailed off, her brows furrowing. "He has unleashed chaos onto the palace."

Ja'far tried to control the urge to throw an 'I-Told-You-So' look at his King. He didn't succeed.

Sinbad ignored the look and stood. "Lead the way," he ordered, marching out towards the distant screams. The servant waited until Ja'far followed his King before trailing after. "Where did Haides strike?"

"The Purple Leo Tower, my King," the servant answered quietly.

"The Purple Leo Tower?" Ja'far exclaimed, his eyes wide. "Why would he be there? His rooms are in the Sapphire Pisces Tower!"

"Salma lead him to the entrance," the servant informed him.

"Salma?" Ja'far struggled to remember. As he dug through his memories, they speed walked down the halls, passed the muttering servants that peeked their heads out of the shadows to watch the King and Advisor march by. No doubt, the entire kingdom would know of Haides and his exploits within the hour. "She is in charge of the Green Sagittarius Tower, why would she bring Master Haides to the other side of the palace?"

The servant was silent. Ja'far was about to demand an answer when a large beast appeared from around the approaching corner. The monster stopped, startled at the sight of the trio. They paused as well, the servant frightened while Ja'far and Sinbad were confused at the sight of the familiar creature. In fear, the servant faded into the safety of the corridors' shadows.

"Sinbad!" Hinahoho shouted, seeing his King as he rounded the corner as well. The beast, with a very familiar weapon clamped in their mouth, shook off its shock and rushed the two powerful warriors. "Sinbad, catch it!"

Sinbad narrowed his arms and widened his stance, prepared to bodily stop the beast. Ja'far was having none of that, monster from the Dungeon of Handras or not.

The monster froze, its limbs trapped in the red thread of Ja'far's trusted weapon. One thread hooked around the beast's mouth, tugging the jaw down so that the Rampaging Unicorn horn fell to the floor.

"That's…" Ja'far started.

"Why were you chasing Haides' monster, Hinahoho?" Sinbad asked, taking a step towards the creature. It growled but didn't even twitch against its bindings.

"The creature was lying in wait for me in my room. The moment I entered, it leapt from the shadows and stole my horn. I have been hunting it down since," Hinahoho stooped briefly to snatch up his beloved weapon. His eyes were narrowed and focused on the beast even as he answered his King.

"Now, that just won't do," Ja'far heard from behind him. He twisted his head, eyeing Haides as he took in the scene before him.

"Haides," Sinbad rumbled. "What is the meaning of this?" The djinn ignored his King, choosing to stare at the red string that held his beast in place.

"That really doesn't look to comfortable, Blaise," he mused. His eyes, glowing unearthly, settled on the restricting string. "_Come to life, bloodied strings of fate. Come to life and become the serpent,_" he hissed.

Ja'far swore, backing up as his threads transformed into thin, red scaled snakes. He shook his arms briskly as they fell to the floor and slipped from the scaled leopard.

"Haides," Sinbad cautioned.

Haides watched the beautiful chaos he created as Blaise snapped the horn from Hinahoho's hands for another merry chase and the temporarily animated strings hogtied Ja'far.

"It's just a little bit of harmless fun, my King," the djinn finally responded.

"Harmless fun? The palace is in chaos, two of my trusted friends are being tormented, and I can hear more screaming in the distance," the King crossed his arms in suppressed anger, staring down his small djinn. Haides stared up blandly, not at all intimidated. A single brat-king kicking up a fuss wasn't enough to make the immortal wary.

"This is hardly torment," Ja'far protested, as his fingers inched towards a concealed knife. He was ignored.

"The screaming would be Drakon, if you must know. I painted him a beautiful shade of purple. A similar color to your hair, now that I think about it," Haides smirked as the two side each other up. "I appreciate that you acknowledge that I am powerful, my King," the djinn stated. "But, even though I pledged myself to you, I am not a force to be controlled. I don't care how my brethren work, no one owns me. Not now, not ever again."

Sinbad narrowed his amber gaze. "I would not disgrace a comrade and think of you as a possession, Haides," he tried to reassure the djinn.

"You'll have to prove that to me, my King. Just like you have proved your superiority to your subordinates," the dancer informed him. "Until then, I have work to be done." The djinn spun around, heading back towards where he had come. Just before he disappeared around the corner, he paused. "_Return to your original form_," he ordered in a hiss.

The red snakes fell limp, rope once again. Ja'far huffed. He was still hogtied.

"Any idea what he meant by that, Ja'far?" Sinbad asked his tied up advisor.

* * *

"That was fun," Haides murmured as he returned to the dancers' room. The large room was a calming blue color that reminded the djinn of the crystal clear water that surrounded the island kingdom. Littering the three walled sides room were multiple wardrobes and in the middle was a mountain of cushions. Most of the Court Dancers were lounging there, giggling and gossiping. Only a handful stopped to notice his presence.

"Master Haides," a blonde muttered respectfully. "What was the commotion that we heard?"

Haides smiled gently. The girls tugged at every paternal bone in his body. He blamed it on missing out on Aladdin growing up. Just another thing to add to the list of reasons to destroy Arba.

"It was nothing, Zillah, just mischief," Haides reassured her. The girls that were listening in visibly relaxed. They weren't fighters, so they could only wait to hear if they were safe. Haides planned to change that. He played the role of the waiting victim far too often, there was no way he was going to allow his girls to suffer that fate.

"I don't think King Sinbad will be pleased with you," she whispered fearfully. Haides reached out and calmly placed his hand on her head.

"Let me worry about the King," he told her. "The rest of you need to worry about the feast that Talitha mentioned. It is tonight, is it not?"

As he watched the girls, his girls, run around to prepare, Haides smiled. Yes, he was going to like it here.

* * *

**I dislike OCs as much as the next person, but I can't just go around calling everyone by their jobs. So, I looked up a bunch of names and choose based on their personalities. **

**Okay, so the Purple Leo tower is where Sinbad and his most trusted live and the Green Sagittarius Tower is where guests live. I made up the Sapphire Pisces Tower because I figured the Royal Chiefs, servants, and Court dancers would need somewhere to live. Sapphire because blue was one of the colors not yet used and it means authority and wisdom. Pisces because, according to the internet, Pisces' need a leader to function at their strongest. But, they are compassionate and devoted and accepting. It really works. **

**GUEST REVIEWS:**

**Guest: So you have wished it, so it shall be~**

**lala: Thanks! I'm really glad that you're liking the story so far!**

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**(I might go back and edit this chapter later, cause I'm kinda in a rush to update it right now. Moving and all.)**

**I hope everyone enjoyed the longer than usual chapter!**


	5. Chapter 5

**I'm back again~ I've also gone back and edited the previous chapter. Surprisingly, there wasn't much I wanted changed when I looked back on it...**

**Imma admit, I wrote this chapter as a response to a review I received. Unlike my other main stories, THIS STORY HAS A HEAVY FOCUS ON THE PAIRING. While I won't go very far, cause this is literally the first time I'm writing a serious pairing, I WILL HAVE SLASH MOMENTS LIKE THIS ENTIRE FREAKING CHAPTER. **

**I just wanted to make that crystal clear. (I hope no one is offended by my need to rant about that…)**

**I don't own Harry Potter, Magi, or Adventures of Sinbad.**

* * *

By the time Sinbad managed to calm down the palace, dinner was ready to be served. Since he had yet to speak with the three targeted by his eighth djinn, he was immediately bombarded when he sat down to eat. The King was thoroughly amused by his friends.

"The child must be punished, Sinbad," Drakon grumbled, as his fiancé chuckled at his new colors.

"I don't know, dear, I find it handsome," Sahel assured him.

"I was chasing down the beast for two hours!" Hinahoho told his children, who all listened in rampantly. "It was scaled, like a snake and far more clever than one. It ran into the Silver Scorpio Tower and weaved between the training soldiers to slow me down!"

"Where is Haides?" Ja'far wondered, glancing around in hopes of spotting the striking black hair or scanty outfit.

Sinbad blinked, taking note of the question over the usual loud clamor. He joined the teen in looking around the room. "Maybe he is hiding to wait out Drakon's wrath?" he chuckled.

"Doubtful," Ja'far stated. "If he was feeling remorseful or worried, he would have called back his beast." The scaled leopard had snuck through the room to sit proudly next to Hinahoho, hungrily eyeing the plates of food. As the blue-haired Imuchakk told the story of their game of tag, he reached down to pat the beast's head and hand it a slice of meat. He almost lost his hand when he tried to feed the beast a peach and proceeded to laugh heartily.

Ja'far wanted to question his sanity if this was the kind of company he kept. But, unfortunately, he already knew the answer to that.

No one who allied themselves with Sinbad could ever be considered sane.

"Perhaps he wasn't hungry?" Mystras interjected, hearing the concerned conversation. "He's not human after all, who knows what he needs to eat."

Mystras brought up a good point, but Ja'far still felt uneasy.

A servant, a young boy, bowed before Sinbad. The King waved him forward and the child whispered in the King's ear. His face lit up and he grinned at his comrades as the servant backed into the shadows once again.

"I have received word that Talitha and her dancers have prepared a routine for us," Sinbad's voice quieted the room. His trusted comrades exchanged looks as Ja'far's eyes widened in realization.

"Wait, Sin-!"

The door eased open slowly. A servant allowed the drapes to fall in front of the large windows, darkening the room significantly. Ja'far could hear the light padding steps of the dancers as they entered.

"It seems you are mistaken, my King," a far too familiar, masculine voice called out. More servants lit the candles that decorated the hall. The flickering light played against the outfits of the dancers, causing the sheer fabric to dance and the metals that decorated the clothes to shimmer.

Haides was standing before six girls, all dressed in smooth, clingy cloth. "From henceforth, it is Master Haides and his dancers," the djinn's teeth were stark in the dim light.

The room held its breath.

Haides made the first move, gently kicking his leg out so his tanned ankle peeked out from the loose fabric that fell from his waist. He rolled his ankle, slowly moving the motion upwards.

From his ankle, to his calf, to his thigh, to his hip, to his chest; his whole body was twisting and swaying as the drummers beat a rhythm through the air.

The music stopped, freezing Haides with both hands in the air and only one leg firmly on the ground. Elegantly, he slipped from the awkward position and into a walk. His hips jumped sharply with the music as he broke off from the rest of the dancers. The drummers picked back up, assisted by the softer horns. As Haides strode forward, the dancers he brought with them started up on the twisting, bouncing dance he began. The sharp clinking of metal was barely heard over the heart pounding, sensual song.

Some of the Court smiled, amused at the almost feminine swing of the djinn's hips as he moved towards them. Only those more experienced in battle could feel the difference. Sinbad watched with narrowed amber eyes as the predator he welcomed into his palace stalked up to him.

Haides passed by a bright candle, illuminating his outfit for the Court to see. Once again, he was dressed in the sheer fabrics he had appeared in. His chest was loosely covered, his arms tangled in shining wings of green and gold cloth. The djinn's smooth stomach was bare to the world and the hem of his pants was almost too low, revealing a tell-tale dip. His silk green pants were overlaid with multiple layers of a sheer gold skirt. Like usual, Haides wore no shoes.

It was his eye, his glowing green, poison eyes that held Sinbad's attention. They were highlighted with gold, making the piercing stare stab into his own amber. If there was any doubt before, this display tore it to shreds. This was not a human that would follow him after a few words. This was a predator, someone that lived for their own amusement.

Haides arrived before his King and lightly tapped his fingers against the man's fist. He sashayed behind the man's chair, trailing his hand up his tanned arm. He circled the King, coming to a stop once he reached the man's other side. Without a word, Haides twisted around and seated himself on the taller man.

Sinbad's eye widened, surprised at the bold move. Haides was resting on his lap, one leg on either side of the King's hips. The dancer leaned forward, close enough to allow the silk fabric of his outfit to brush oh-so-delicately across the King's exposed chest.

Sinbad was completely focused on the smaller man, not a single brain cell paying attention to the other dancers or the bewildered stares of his cherished friends.

Haides leaned even closer and the King caught sight of his glossed lips before they pressed themselves against his check.

"I am far beyond your comprehension," Haides whispered onto his check. With his message said, the djinn leaned back, smirking.

Sinbad responded by hooking his arm around the smaller man's waist, pulling him closer again. Haides hissed, surprised, as his bare chest pressed against Sinbad's warm muscles.

Sinbad tilted his head, brushing his lips across a tanned ear. "I'm starting to think that you're underestimating me, Handras," the world-trotting flirt breathed into his ear.

Haides didn't move. This was definitely not what he had expected. Solomon would have fled the room awkwardly had Haides dared to create such a scene, with Ugo following faithfully behind. Sheba would have joined him in tormenting her husband, but very few would have reciprocated his attention.

Maybe, just maybe, this mortal would be more fun than he had originally thought.

Haides rested his hands on the King's broad shoulders, shifting his weight slightly. With a soft chuckle, the djinn flipped himself off and over Sinbad, landing behind his high-backed chair.

"It seems that I have," Haides admitted.

Not paying the rest of the dancers or the confused stares of the Court any mind, Haides left the room. With a huff, the scaled leopard, Blaise, followed after his creator.

The moment he fled the room, Haides stalked towards the nearest balcony. The wind danced around him, white rukh circling his form and briefly kissing his tanned skin.

"I'm glad you approve, Solomon," Haides told the wind. A gentle caress to his check caused the immortal being to reach up and tap his fingers against the burning surface. "I haven't had someone flirt with me in a long time, brat. The last one was Focalor, I believe. And he thought I was a woman."

The white rukh tittered, bobbing up and down in amusement.

Haides was silent, basking in the dying sunlight and the light touches of the Country of Souls.

His green eyes burned as he stared out into the sea, the last rays of light sparking a fire inside.

"I'm feeling…excited," he allowed.

In the distance, he could see the black cloud of Arba's taint. But, here and now, under Sinbad's roof, Haides was surrounded by his past and present Kings.

If only Sheba and Aladdin were here as well, then everything would be perfect.

* * *

**I need to get up to date with Magi and Adventures of Sinbad, now that I think about it. I've been putting it off in favor of other things, but this story kinda demands it. Hm.**

**Anyway, I spent so much time watching videos of both male and female belly dancers, but it's still hard to write. I'll probably go more in-depth with one of Haides' dances later on, but the little sneak peak should be enough, right?**

**Guest Reviews:**

**Guest (1) – Here ya go~**

**Lala – yeah, it'll take time, but they'll have their fun with flirting. After all, Sinbad isn't known for taking things slowly. You are right about the trust though; no one is going to truly trust Haides for a while. Haha, I can't wait to write Judal and Haides! It's going to be so much fun~ I am sorry about the delay though!**

**Languid reader – I did put a warning in the first chapter. However, I will do as you ask and add a more noticeable warning. (…is it just me, or is the word 'warning' to say a homosexual relationship is within the story kinda rude?) Let me retry this; I made sure to inform everyone in the first chapter. However, I will do as you ask and add a more noticeable notice. **

**Guest (2) - I HAVE RETURNED IN TIME TO SAVE YOUR LIFE.**

**Guest (3) – Haha, I'm glad that you enjoy the story so far!**

**Guest (4) – You rang?**

**Anyway, I hope everyone enjoys this short chapter! I have the next one already in the works, so it shouldn't take too long…hopefully. **


	6. Chapter 6

**This Chapter has been Edited. **

**Anyway, I don't own Harry Potter, Magi, or Adventures of Sinbad.**

* * *

_Harry loved talking to the Mother Dragon._

_She was the only creature he's met, other than Death, who was even close to his age. She understood the hollow emptiness of being alone for so long. She understood the overwhelming weight of time as it slides right of his skin._

_It was a pity she was an origin dragon living in a dying world._

_"David introduced his spawn the other day," Harry informed her, resting against her glowing scales. He could feel the cool power that radiated from the intelligent dragon as she breathed calmly. "The lucky brat didn't inherit his weird serpentine face."_

_"I was not aware High Priest David had a wife," Mother Dragon remarked, her breath sparkling in the dark abyss of the Continental Rift._

_Harry paused, thinking back. He might be getting on in his years, but there was no way he would have missed David's wife. He spent enough time mocking David's regime to have missed something so vital. "I…don't think the runt has one."_

_Mother hummed, amused and fascinated. "I was not aware humans could reproduce asexually, Lord. You have been holding out on me."_

_"And people think I'm a pervert," Harry muttered, exasperated. "I'm sure there's an explanation. Maybe she died in childbirth or something. I don't want to think of the brat as David's clone. One egotistical megalomaniac is more than enough for my taste."_

_"It is not wise to seek to fool yourself," she argued. "It is worrying that the High Priest feels a need for an heir. Perhaps he too can feel the world dying."_

_Harry sighed, knocking his head lightly on the dragon's hard scales. He didn't worry about this small dystopian world. It was one of dozens he's watched end. Admittedly, this was the first time he was physically dumped into the dying world, but it was all the same. They would die and he would live._

_"It doesn't matter. Everyone will die either way," Harry stated. "Heir or no heir, the runt won't live to see his 900th birthday."_

_"You are so negative for someone so small," Mother Dragon chided. "Have hope, it is not yet over."_

_"I have heard that time after time, Mother. They never succeed. Kingdoms far stronger than the runt's fall to Death. Everyone and everything falls to Death," he retorted. Harry levered himself up, no longer in the mood to relax. "I will return in a sun cycle's time, dear Mother. I think I'll go look into the runt's relationship status. It'll make for some good rumors, at least."_

_Harry moved to twist and apparate away, an image of his tiny hovel at the edge of David's kingdom already in his mind._

_"I foresee your happiness, Lord," Mother Dragon muttered, just as the immortal teleported out of her lonely home. "I foresee death and blood. But, for just a moment, you are smiling. Do not give up hope; I promise you it will all get better," she told the empty abyss._

* * *

Haides woke with a frown, his mind a world away. He missed the Mother Dragon. She was interesting, someone Haides could honestly call a close friend. He wished he could see her again.

"If wishes were fishes," the dancer sighed, shifting to stare up at the arched ceiling above him. He was reclining in the dancers' room, resting against the cushion bed. Many of his girls were resting with him, cuddling next to him like puppies to their mother.

At his muttering, Zillah's right eye opened a sliver to gaze at the Master of the Dancers. It had been a week after Haides had the girls dance for King Sinbad and he refused to leave the room since. Zillah thought that Master Haides was embarrassed that his flirting was thrown back in his face. But, within those seven days, the girls had been given the opportunity to get to know, and truly accept, their new leader.

"What is wrong, Master Haides?" the blonde questioned softly. Haides hummed, running his fingers through the hair of a girl resting on his lap. Miriam sighed in happiness, shuffling closer to the protective man.

"A long forgotten memory has decided to sneak up on me. It is very unwelcome…" the man trailed off, finally realizing what he was doing. He stared at his hand as if it was foreign to him. Miriam huffed in irritation and canted her head to glare up at the only male dancer of the Court. "I'm feeling…parental…" he mused.

"Most of us have not felt such kindness in a long time, Master Haides," Zillah informed him, shifting so that she could sit up, the bodies that had been resting on her falling to the cushions with annoyed groans.

A grin spread across Haides' face. "I know exactly what I need to do," he proclaimed. Gently, he brushed off the girls around him and stood. "I'll be back soon," he told Zillah, reaching down to run his hand through her loose hair. "Aseneth is in charge."

A mound in the middle of the pile moaned in defeated acceptance.

Under Zillah's watchful eye, Haides slipped out of the room to cause some form of mischief.

"He's going to give King Sinbad a heart attack," Zillah sighed.

"No doubt," the rest of the room chorused in response.

And they wouldn't have him any other way.

* * *

Haides only had a vague, very vague, idea of what he was planning on doing. The last time he had felt too paternal/maternal was when Sheba told him she was pregnant. And who could blame him? Just the idea of his two favorite bookworm brats having a brat of their own brought a tear of pride to his eye.

He remembered reacting by hunting down some of David's more zealous supporters and blowing up their base of operations. Surprisingly, Solomon had been upset when Haides returned with their charred heads. It might have been because Haides gift wrapped them as a 'baby shower' present. (Not that Sheba or Solomon knew what a baby show was, those adorable bookworms.)

That was not the issue at hand, however. Haides also remembered how protective and possessive he became towards Sheba and really didn't want to go down that road with his precious dancers. He needed an outlet for his parental urges.

So, once he left the dancers' room, Haides disappeared with a soft crack, leaving Blaise behind to cause some distracting chaos.

When he reappeared, the djinn was in a desert kingdom, no doubt far, far away from Sindria. In the distance, Haides could see a small city forming, centered around a large tower. With a sniff of disgust, Haides turned his back to the sight. Amon was not one of his former comrades that he wanted to talk to. The hermit would just have to wait until he had his own King.

The landscape was barren, the perfect environment for all sorts of deviants. Haides set off with a savage grin. There were definitely some bandits hiding around that he could wipe from existence.

Chaos was not just harmless pranks, after all.

Just as Haides thought, it didn't take long to find some bandits. With a new city flourishing in the deadly desert, families would be coming in droves for the protection it offered.

And with travelers came bandits.

When the djinn caught sight of his targets, they were already fleeing the scene of the crime. Barely making note of the two corpses, Haides prepared to chase after his prey.

At least, until he heard a tell-tale sniffle. It seemed that the clumsy bandits had missed someone.

"Is someone there?" Haides called out. The sniffled stopped, replaced with a horrified muffled gasp. "It's okay, I won't hurt you. I promise."

As Haides murmured soothing words, a small head poked out from under the overturned carriage. The child was small, around eight years old, with short brown hair and beady brown eyes that were overflowing with tears.

"There you are," Haides smiled softly. "Can you tell me what happened here?"

"Ma-," the girl started, pausing to gather herself. "Mama and Papa sa-said that we were going someplace safe and nice. Bu-but then the bad people came and Mama and Papa aren't moving and Big Sisters aren't here and I'm really scared!" she shouted, throwing herself into the comfortable safety of the strange man.

Haides caught her gracefully, curling his arms around her slight form. He hushed her, feeling his silk outfit become wet with her tears.

"Good going Haides," he muttered to himself, the child too caught up in fear to hear him. "You go in search of something to kill and you run into the same problem you were trying to fix. Potter luck at its finest."

With a soft sigh, Haides settled himself in for a long night of taking care of the distraught child. With luck, he could drop her off at Amon's town and hunt down some slavers. There were few things Haides loved more than the blood of human traffickers.

"What's your name, Mister?" the girl asked, sniffing slightly as she eased away from Haides' shirt.

"Haides of Sindria," he informed the child, conjuring a silk tissue to gently dry her face with. He placed it delicately on her long crooked nose and silently urged her to blow.

"Sindria? Where's that?" she asked, her black eyes gazing up at Haides in wonder.

"Hm, I don't actually know," he admitted, raking his mind for an answer. "It's an island, I know that much." With a flick of his wrist, the djinn banished the tissue once he deemed the child's face sufficiently cleaned.

"An island? Can you see the sea then?" Haides nodded as the child lit up. "I've always wanted to see the sea!"

"Ah, jeez," Haides muttered, reaching back to tug lightly at his long braid. His sentimental heart tugged at the girl's words and expression. "It seems like the choice is out of my hands now, huh, Solomon?"

In response, a cold wind blew against the raven's form, allowing for some relief from the heat. Haides narrowed his eyes, just knowing that the brat was laughing at him.

"Mister, who are you talking to?" the girl blinked up at him. Surprised, Haides blinked right back at her. After a moment, he smiled fondly.

"I'm talking to an old friend, who'll be watching over your parents for me, okay?" the girl looked behind her, where the blood drained corpses of her parents still laid. She shivered in Haides' arms, causing the man to frown at her reaction. He would definitely need to fix that.

With another flick of his wrist the corpses disintegrated into ashes that were lifted into the skin by a gust of wind. The girl yelped in shock, watching with wide eyes as the remains of her parents faded into the distance.

Now that the distraction of his newest ward was gone, Haides smiled down at the child.

"And what's your name, little one?"

Still shocked, the girl could only mutter out a numb response. "Ekaterina."

* * *

At lunch, Sinbad was surprised to see one of Haides' dancers approach him. The woman bowed her head in reverence to her King, but stood firmly in front of him instead of moving to his side to speak with him quietly.

Feeling Sinbad's gaze, the young woman started speaking. "My King, the inhabitants of the Sapphire Pisces Tower were wondering if the Court has seen Master Haides. He left his room early this morning and has not been seen since."

Sinbad's brow furrowed. "Haides is missing? Did he mention where he was going?" The rest of the Court silenced themselves, listening intently to their King's conversation.

"Ah," the woman blushed. "All Master Haides said before leaving was that he would be back soon. Many of the dancers assumed he was off to cause more mischief. However, when nothing was heard a few hours later, we started to worry."

The King leaned forward, resting his elbows on top of the table, clasping his hands together in thought. "Perhaps we should wait until dinner? If he has yet to appear, then we shall send out search parties. He might have just gotten lost in the city." He smiled gently at the woman, a little confused when she only frowned back at him.

"No need," Haides informed him, striding through the entryway. "I am appear to be late, how rude of me."

"Master Haides!" the woman exclaimed gleefully.

Haides paused, blinking at the woman before him. "Miriam, is something wrong? You are not one to leave the rooms," he mused.

Miriam blushed and glanced at the tiled floor shyly. "We were worried, so I decided to ask King Sinbad for assistance. Zillah and Aseneth already searched the entire palace when you didn't return in time to break your fast."

Haides smiled softly and approached the woman. As she was staring at the floor, she did not realize the dancer was in front of her until he rested his hand on her head. "You should return to the rooms and inform the rest of the girls that I have returned," he suggested.

She beamed up at him and nodded happily. She nearly raced out of the dining room to tell her sisters that their Master Haides was with the Court.

"I see that the girls have become fond of you, Haides," Sinbad commented, leaning his head on one of his arms as he watched his eighth djinn.

"They are sweet girls," Haides admitted softly. He brightened quickly, spinning around to face his King. "Speaking of girls…" he trailed off with a grin. "What do you think of children, my King?"

"I like to think of my subjects as my children," the King laughed. Haides was amused by the disturbed looks of the Courts faces. Ja'far sighed, rubbing his forehead in exasperation.

"Why do you ask, Master Haides?" Hinahoho asked with a grin.

"Well," he started. He reached behind him and lifted Ekaterina in front of the Court with a smile. "I've decided to adopt!"

Sinbad stared in horror.

Ja'far coughed politely. When the King remained frozen, the advisor took it upon himself to talk sense into the djinn. "Master Haides, where did you find that child?"

Haides narrowed his eyes at the former assassin. "Her name is Ekaterina," he stated darkly, daring anyone to speak against him.

"Ah, where did you find Ekaterina then?" Ja'far amended.

"I found her in a desert!" the djinn chirped, lifting the child into the air. Ekaterina giggled happily at his actions.

"I was not aware that there were any deserts near Sindria," Mystras mused.

"There aren't," Haides informed him absentmindedly, his attention focused on his ward. "I needed to let out steam so I went on an adventure. Instead, I found Ekaterina."

"And you decided to keep her? What about her parents?" Sahel intervened with a frown.

"Dead!" Haides nearly sang, swinging the girl around. "Bandits and rogues did it. I was going to hunt them down, but Ekaterina needed me more."

"Do you even know how to take care of a chi-!" Sahel started.

"There is no way you are adopting a child!" Sinbad stated, lunging into a stand. "I forbid it!"

Haides frowned, slowly lowering his ward to the ground. She watched him stalk towards the King with a giggle.

"What do you want me to do with her, then?" Haides whispered inquisitively.

"Take her to an orphanage? Haides, you are not exactly parent material!" Sinbad continued.

The djinn crossed his arms defensively. "The girls would help me."

Ja'far leaned over to whisper into his King's ear. "What is wrong with Haides having a child to look after? It might keep him from causing a scene like he did last week," Ja'far tried to reason.

"Or," Sinbad told his advisor. "Haides will teach her to be as much of a hellion as he is. She can't be older than eight years. Do you remember what Kikiriku was like when he was eight? Now image if he was raised by Haides. One bloodthirsty, mischievous djinn is enough." Ja'far paled at the mental image. He chuckled nervously, turning towards Haides.

"Maybe Sin has a point," he tried as Haides frowned at him.

"But, Ekaterina wants to stay. She likes Sindria," he informed them. "Plus," he turned back towards the child with a grin. "Say it, Ekaterina," he ordered gently.

The girl blinked before facing Sinbad. The King shifted nervously, bracing himself for whatever mischief Haides felt the child could unleash on him.

"Can I please stay, Papa? Mama'll take good care of me, he promises?" she begged.

Sinbad promptly fainted.

Haides cackled madly.

"This is what happens when you embarrass me, Stupid King," he cooed, gathering Ekaterina up into his arms once again. He turned to the rest of the Court with a sharp grin. "Ekaterina is staying."

With that said, he left to introduce his youngest ward to all her older sisters.

The Court exchanged wary looks as he left the room. There would never be a boring moment with Haides around that was for sure.

* * *

**Yes, Haides is going to do stuff like this again. Just randomly enter another kingdom and kidnap a child or two. If there's one thing he can't stand, it's abuse and child suffering. **

**I always thought it was weird that three girls in three different kingdoms looked the same. So, Ekaterina was kidnapped by Haides and her sisters were taken by traffickers. That wraps that up nicely.**

**I'm currently rereading parts of the manga and Solomon admits that before Ugo and Arba, he was an egotistic little shit. I feel that Ugo was really the one to change him, since Arba was his servant and was required to bow to his whims. At least, until he grew up into a badass and told her to chill. **

**Guest Reviews:**

**Guest (1) - Haha, I'm glad you like the story so much!**

**Laura - Oh, I just can't wait to write that scene!**

**lala - Haha, thanks!**

**I hope everyone enjoys this chapter!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Okay, I can be mature and admit that it's been a while. About three months, I believe.**

**But, at least you aren't Shared Flesh. Five months and counting on their end! (See, you're not the only ones suffering, doesn't that make you feel better?) Or Eternal Guardians! Almost half a year for them. (Man, I should really work on those two…)**

**Anyway, I don't own Magi, The Adventures of Sinbad, or Harry Potter.**

* * *

"Ekaterina, meet your new big sisters!" Haides cheered, holding up the little girl for the entire room to see.

A mass of coos followed his introduction.

"Where did you find her, Master Haides?" Asenath wondered, stepping forward to observe the newest member of the family closer.

"In a desert," he replied, grinning as Ekaterina twisted in his grasp, trying to see all of her new sisters. It was testament to his bond with his girls that no one questioned his statement, as there were no deserts on Sindria. Or on any of the nearby islands.

"She's cute," Zillah proclaimed.

"Are you going to teach her to join the dancers, Master Haides?" Talitha asked, eyeing the child with hesitance.

"Only if she wants to learn," Haides shrugged, finally lowering the girl to the ground. She found her footing quickly and set off exploring the large room. The djinn flicked his eyes at Asenath, who nodded and followed after the child quietly. He lowered himself to the cushioned floor, waiting as his remaining girls crowded around. "Now, what did I miss?"

"King Sinbad received correspondence from one of his allies,"Ahava, a short blonde dancer in blue, stated. "I believe he will be leaving on a trip soon. Perhaps to check up on his investments."

"The members of the Court have been uneasy since King Sinbad called them for a meeting," Candace, a raven dancer dressed in royal purple, added cautiously.

"There have been many strange faces at the port," Kezia, a brunette dancer in red, noted. "The merchants are uncomfortable."

"I leave to go have some fun for a few hours and the country goes to hell. Figures," Haides mused. "Very well then. You girls were helpful, thank you. I'll make informants out of you yet," he reached over, carefully running his hand through the three girls' hair and smiled softly. "I'm proud."

They blushed and bowed, frantically leaving his presence with stammered words.

"So cute," he commented, relaxing on his fluffy seat.

"Only for you," Zillah informed him. "I caught Candace ready to murder a man when she visited Madame Akeldama's for some perfume."

Haides chuckled. "That's my girl."

"Should you truly be rewarding violence, especially when this country is not yet settled as a world power?" Zillah questioned, staring at the djinn.

His smile didn't falter. "I take pride in the fact she stood up for herself. I hate it when woman are considered weaker or property because of how they were born. It disgusts me. If my girls can take care of themselves, I can sleep easier at night."

"You truly care for us? Even after only a few weeks in our presence?" Zillah asked, bewildered. Haides didn't miss how many other girls in the room tilted their attention to his conversation, desperate for an answer.

He frowned sadly at their confusion. "You did the same for me."

The conversation dwindled off as Zillah absorbed the implications. Haides watched his ward as she thought it over.

"You won't leave us, right?" she whispered desperately.

"I have no reason to."

"Mama, can we go to the sea?" Ekaterina shrieked, racing back to his side. Asenath followed behind her at a steady pace.

"Mama?" Miriam muttered from behind Haides, standing over him to stare down at the little girl.

Haides snickered wicked. "She calls me 'Mama' and King Sinbad 'Papa'. I wonder if he's regained consciousness by now."

The girls exchanged a look as he chuckled to himself.

"May we call you 'Mama' as well, Master Haides?" Candace spoke up bravely, a brilliant blush decorating her face.

The djinn blinked in surprise. He looked around, taking in the slightly hopeful looks of the dancers in the room. He smiled softly. "If you wish to. However, I expect you to be professional when we are called before the Court. Don't want to give King Sinbad a heart attack, now do we?"

"Why would Papa have a heart attack?" Ekaterina's thin eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"I thought you wanted to go to the sea, not play twenty questions?" Haides asked, tilting his head at the youngest of his girls. She forgot her question in favor of cheering loudly. "Do any of you wish to join us?"

"No, thank you, Master Haides," Zillah muttered, glancing around at her sisters. "We have much to talk about. I'm sure Ekaterina would like to spend some time alone with you, as well."

"If all of you are sure?" everyone nodded, causing the djinn to sigh. "Very well then. I shall return when the sun touches the waters. Come along, Ekaterina, to the sea we go."

Zillah watched as the pair left the room, Haides pausing briefly to connect his poison green eyes with her watery blue pair.

"Mama," Kezia muttered. "I like the sound of that."

Zillah nodded.

* * *

"What's that, Mama?" Ekaterina wondered in awe, pointing to a stall at the port. Haides was almost disappointed in how easy it was to get down to the town without anyone in the palace knowing of his departure. He made a note to test the guards later. If his King was killed because of their incompetency, there would be hell to pay.

"A merchant selling fish," he told her, guiding her to the stall to stare at the brightly colored creatures.

"They're so pretty!" she squealed. She reached out hesitantly to touch the wet scales and Haides noticed the merchant scowling. He locked his poison green eyes with the man's brown, daring him to move against the child.

He backed down with a shiver.

"It's slimy," she giggled, running her hand along the fish's body.

"They have to be. Unlike with people, fish need to be wet to survive," he informed her gently.

"Fish are in the sea, right Mama?" Ekaterina asked, turning to stare at the glittering water that was just out of reach.

Haides chuckled. "Yes, there are fish and dolphins and serpents in the sea. It's like a whole other world down there."

"I want to see, I want to see!" she exclaimed, tugging the djinn along towards the water.

"You were the one that stopped to smell the roses," he laughed. Ekaterina giggled, but continued to tug Haides towards the sea. They were so close, she could hear the waves crashing against the rocks. The air smelled like freedom.

They rounded a corner to the country's port and she froze in surprise. The sea was blue, like the Lapis Lazuli necklace her father gave her mother when they married. The water sparkled under the high sun as the waters roiled. In the distance she could make out a sea serpent arching over the waves, its tail swishing in the air as it dived back into the depths it called a home.

It was beautiful.

"Hush, darling," Haides murmured, wrapping his arms around the child from behind. "There's no need to cry." He reached up, gently brushing away the wayward tears.

Ekaterina twisted in his arms, burying her head in his chest. She sniffled, taking a shuttering breath. "Thank you."

"No need for that," Haides assured her. "As one of mine, you only deserve the best." Just like Teddy did, all those years ago. Just like Aladdin did, if Arba hadn't ruined the happiness waiting for him. Haides would make sure that everyone he accepted under his wing got everything they desired, that they were _happy_.

"You're the best, Mama!" his precious little girl exclaimed, beaming up at him.

Haides smiled down at his newest bundle of joy as she spun back around to stare, starry-eyed, at the sea.

"It's been a while since I have seen the sea up close," Haides admitted, gazing at the twinkling waters. He could hear the waves as they crashed against the shore, a peaceful scent of salt, _of freedom_, flowing through the air.

The last time…was right after Arba killed Sheba and life retreated underground in hopes of survival. Yes, it has been a while.

"What-" Ekaterina started. Haides hummed, urging her quietly. "What do you think happened to my big sisters? Did someone save them too? Are they happy too?"

"I'm sure they are well, Ekaterina. But, I will check in on them tonight, just make sure to tell me their names before you go to sleep," Haides promised.

They were quiet, simply taking in the glittering sea.

"Come on," the djinn muttered, scooping the child up. "Let's get a little closer."

Ekaterina hummed, resting her head sideways on her guardian's shoulder, her eyes trained on the little section of sea that flowed into the port. Haides marched forward, checking around for a good place to sit and watch the waves crash. Spotting a path to the circling cliff, he bee-lined for it, dodging lingering pedestrians as he went.

Hopping lightly across the rocks, Haides kept his attention on the edge above him, ignoring the burning stares of the civilians beneath him

When he finally reached the cliff edge, Haides paused before sitting, just breathing for a moment. The unfamiliar scent of salt water calmed him, relaxing muscles that had been tense since he first left his seal. Slowly, the djinn eased to the ground, adjusting Ekaterina onto his lap and tucking her head under his chin.

She ohed and awed at the waters, squealing whenever she noticed a breaching serpent or a distant ship.

Haides just hummed at her glee, his eyes closed and a soft smile gracing his face while absorbing the calm. No mischief, no anger, no sadness. Just his youngest ward and the sea.

The wind gently carded through his hair, whispering sweet words into his awaiting ears. He lost himself in the attention of his two favorite people, both long since dead.

He cracked his eye open, checking on the child when her distant voice dwindled, replaced by light breathing.

She was sleep. Haides blinked in surprise, also noticing that the sun was setting, painting the sea a rosy red.

"Sorry, darling," he murmured as he stood, cradling the child to his chest. Her pointed nose crunched up at his shifting but was deep enough asleep that her breathing barely stuttered. "I didn't mean to have you out so late. Let's hope the girls aren't too worried."

As he carried Ekaterina back to the palace, he noted the lanterns strung up around the paths, illuminating the night like giant fireflies. He listened carefully, prepared to fight off muggers that would hide in the shadows created by the light.

There wasn't a single shuffle of poorly made clothing. No glint of a small dagger catching the light for a split second. No black rukh brushed against his checks.

Sinbad ran an interesting country, Haides mused as he was greeted politely by the white-rukhed streetwalkers who cooed at Ekaterina.

The sky was completely dark when Haides left the streetwalkers and finally reached the safety of the palace, dodging the guards with the ease of a ghost. He crept towards the Sapphire Pisces Tower, sweeping past the Black Libra Tower and Sinbad's office without a word.

Haides stopped, his sharp eyes catching a flicker of movement from the shadows.

"Little assassin," the djinn greeted, amused.

Ja'far stepped into the dim light of the moon, his red strings vibrant against his pale flesh.

"Haides," the advisor returned. "Welcome back. Did you have a good day in the town?"

"I did," Haides smiled down at his ward. "I seem to have tuckered Ekaterina out, though."

"You should hand her over to the dancers," Ja'far informed his King's eighth djinn. "Sinbad requests your presence."

Haides frowned, but nodded. His girls warned him that something was going to happen.

Thankfully, he had front row seats.

* * *

"What seems to be the problem, my King?" the ageless djinn asked, sashaying into the crowded office.

"Handras," Sinbad stated.

Haides shifted slightly, snapping from playful to serious with the practiced ease of a soldier. He ignored the surprised looks of his King inner circle, his focus entirely on his wielder.

"My King," Haides said.

"Dark forces are working against Sindria," Sinbad told his djinn. "My comrades and I will be leaving the palace to fight them before they attack the island. As I have yet to practice equipping with you, I want you to join us. Fight beside us. Help us destroy Al Tharman, Handras."

Haides knew his reaction was being watched, judged.

He didn't care. Let them stare.

White rukh kissed his checks, whispering of death and blood should he join in on the battle. The ethereal butterflies told him of the darkness that threatened his King and the trials he will experience while away from the safety of his country. Of the suffocating hatred hanging over the East like an omen.

The rukh also brought a cry for help from the West, a child's voice screaming in fear.

_Help me, someone please, don't let him hurt me. Please!_

Haides shook his head with a weary smile. It seemed he would need a refund on his seats. "No, my King," he replied. "I will be staying here, guarding your home."

"Handras-" Sinbad tried to reason.

"No," the djinn repeated. "You don't want chaos on the battlefield, not today, my King. Not today and not tomorrow. The risk is far too great."

"Master Haides-" Ja'far attempted, stepping forward to argue his own case.

Haides' poison eyes glowed. "I will stay here. A warm hearth will be awaiting you when you return."

Sinbad sighed, accepting his djinn's decision. He had wanted the immortal by his side, protecting his comrades. But, he knew not to push the otherworldly being. Not yet, not so soon into their interactions.

"Very well then, Haides," he allowed. "However, I ask that you see to the care of the country while we are gone."

Haides bowed his head in agreement. "If that was all, my King?"

"It was," Sinbad answered.

"Then I shall turn in. I will bid you a good journey on the morrow," and, with a bow, the djinn departed.

"Are you sure we can trust him alone with Sindria?" Sahel wondered. The inner circle exchange looks of uncertainty.

Sinbad only smiled. "I never said he would be alone, my friends."

"Who will be staying behind?" Mystras asked, mentally checking his comrades over for injures or pressing duties that would hold them back.

Sinbad shook his head, amused. "Our favorite Fanalis will be arriving soon."

"Masrur is coming home."

* * *

**MASRUR. Who else has just been dying for Masrur to be introduced? Those two are gonna get along like a house on fire.**

**You really don't have to remember the names of all of the dancers, considering the fact I just keep dumping more on you all. Most of the names will just be repeated, but a new one might get added every once and a while. In total, there are around eighteen dancers at the moment. It will increase and decrease over the next ten years.**

**I still haven't caught up with Magi or The Adventures of Sinbad in ****_months_****, so if I got something wrong, don't feel shy to call bullshit on it?**

**Later tonight (or tomorrow), Imma edit the previous few chapters, cause they actually hurt me to read. Don't mind me.**

**Guest Reviews:**

**Laura – Haides will go back briefly to see if he can catch a trail of them. It'll be unlikely that he'll be able to find them, however. Morgiana was not really one of Sinbad's dancers, she just danced with them once or twice. She will have a close bond with them, though, because they will be the female influence in her life. I'm glad you enjoyed the chapter though!**

**Guest (1) – Haha, exactly! **

**Lala – I'm glad you enjoyed it! Haha, there are going to be a lot of scenes like that~**

**Castella Leena – Here you go! Sorry about the long delay though…**

**Guest (2) – I'm really sorry about how long it took to get this out! Hopefully, the next chapter if easy to write…**

**Guest (3) – Haha, I'm glad you're liking the story so far!**

**Anyway, I hope everyone enjoys the chapter! I can't wait for next time - it's gonna be _fun._**


	8. Chapter 8

**I _really_ don't want to talk about why I haven't updated recently, for any of my stories. So, I'll just say that have had a crappy last few weeks and leave it at that. However, now that everything has blown over, Imma just shower you all in a mass update. Hip-hip-horray!**

**Anyway, I don't own Magi, The Adventures of Sinbad, or Harry Potter**

* * *

"How annoying," Haides sighed, carefully rubbing away a streak of blood that marred his check. He nudged the body as his feet, watching with flat eyes as the assassin's empty gaze stared up at him.

Dead then. It was for the best. He didn't know where Sinbad's dungeons were and really didn't care to find out.

Barely a week after Sinbad and his inner circle left Sindria and Haides had been up to his neck in foreign 'dignitaries' sent to test the young country's defenses. The djinn hasn't even had a spare moment to investigate the voice he heard, too busy with the Court, hunting down invaders, and taking care of his girls.

It was for the best that he stayed behind, no matter how betrayed his King might feel. The idiot would have been devastated if he returned to find a country of corpses.

Of course, with all these assassins getting into the palace, Haides has also had to take time to retrain the pathetic guards. Like hell was he trusting them to watch over him while he slept if they kept inviting murderers into his new home.

"Master Haides!" the guard that brought the assassin to the djinn exclaimed. "That was an ambassador from Reim!" he protested, staring down at the corpse in dismay.

"Twenty laps around the palace," Haides snarled as he burned his conjured rag, satisfied that his hands and face were clean of blood. He didn't want to give Ekaterina a scare, after all. "Next time, confiscate their weapons. I'm sick and tired of dealing with traumatized staff. It's like they're not used to blood."

"They're not," Zillah stated, stepping forward from where she was lurking behind her mentor. "Most of them were peasants, not soldiers."

Haides huffed, but nodded. It made sense. It took a lot to convert soldiers, fanatically loyal as they were. He had no doubt his King could do it, though.

"What are you still doing here?" he hissed when the guard hesitated. "I said laps! Now!" When guard fled with his tail between his legs, Haides sighed again, completely and utterly done with stupidity. "When is that Idiot King coming back? I don't think I can deal with this incompetence for much longer."

"Another month or so, Master Haides," Zillah said. "King Sinbad has a long journey ahead of him."

"He better pamper the hell out of me when he gets back," Haides sighed, canting his head as he observed the corpse. "Blaise," he called, nodding his head in decision.

The scaled leopard prowled out from the shadows of the corridor, stalking over to his creator with a greeting hiss. Blaise immediately noticed the corpse, pausing to regard it before turning to Haides in question.

"Eat," the djinn ordered, pointing at the corpse dramatically. Blaise pounced on the meat happily, tearing into the muscle with abandon. Haides patiently waited out the feasting, mindfully ignoring Zillah's shutters and dry heaving behind him.

He folded his arms, starting to get bored by the time his beast had moved onto the assassin's bones.

"I should add my creations to the sentry posts. Maybe then I won't have to personally step in anymore," Haides commented, eyeing Blaise, noting how easily his teeth snapped bone and how quickly he tore through the corpse. Yes, his girls would be much safer if his beasts were guarding them instead of those incompetent idiots that can't even tell an assassin from a royal official.

"I don't believe the Court would appreciate that, Master Haides," Zillah informed him hesitantly, being sure not to look at Blaise.

Haides hummed in acknowledgement. "Blaise," he called. The snipe faced his creator, his muzzle crusted with blood and mashed muscles. "Go patrol the Sapphire Pisces Tower. Eat anyone that feels...wrong."

Blaise hissed in malicious glee, leaving an unrecognizable smear of blood behind as he raced to follow Haides's command.

"A compromise," Haides stated, an unearthly green eye peaking over his shoulder at Zillah's wide stare. "Blaise will protect our rooms and the guards can still feel important. When my King returns, I will discuss with him the benefits of posting my creations around the palace." Haides frowned, berating himself for not thinking about it before the Idiot King left. No, he had to been busy fending off the anger of the King's Inner Circle and getting Ekaterina properly settled in.

"Are you sure it won't hurt any of the servants?" Zillah tried to argue. She trusted Master Haides, she wouldn't never doubt him. No, it was the beast she didn't trust. It looked like it could turn on Master Haides and tear out his throat before he even thought about reacting.

Haides smiled and spun around, twisting on the balls of his bare feet to face his dancer. He reached up calmly, pressing a kiss to her forehead reassuringly. "Just trust me, Blaise will protect our family."

"Our family," Zillah repeated wishfully. The sudden lost look in her eyes almost made Haides step closer and pull this girl, this _child_, into his arms for a comforting hug. "Mama…"

Of course, another guard had to interrupt the bonding moment, bulldozing through the halls as if Blaise was snapping at his heels.

Now, that was an interesting idea.

"Master Haides!" the guard called in relief, his voice rough from his sprint. "Master Haides, you must come quickly! A ship from Reim is currently docking. And Lord Masrur is aboard!" the guard was practically shaking, a wide grin spreading across his face.

"Masrur?" Haides repeated, testing out the name. It wasn't familiar to him, but that wasn't too surprising. The djinn only remembered the names of those he liked: his girls, his King, and the little assassin. Remembering the names of everyone that he met would only lead to unnecessary attachments. Haides didn't need that kind of heartbreak for the third time.

"Lord Masrur is one of King Sinbad's companions," Zillah explained when the guard proved to be too out of breath to do so. Pathetic. "He was on a personal journey to the Dark Continent, to find the rest of his tribe. It appears that he found his answers and wished to return to our King's side."

"Well then," Haides grinned. "Any friend of my King is a friend of mine. As the current Master of the Palace, I should welcome our comrade, no?"

* * *

Haides hated the docks.

He was used to staring. It had been a staple all throughout his life. As the boy-who-lived, at Solomon's side, or dressed in an unfamiliar silky outfit; if he had ever been shy, his life quickly got rid of that nonsense.

But the docks were something completely different.

With his constant 'above human' status, people always subconsciously formed bubbles around him, giving him his much needed space. Claustrophobia was a very real problem for Haides, making him thankful for the human instincts that usually stopped mobs from surrounding him.

At the docks, there were too many people, too much noise. Even with a royal procession, Haides was elbowed in the sides and shoved around by citizens as he tried to find this Masrur. He bet if Sinbad was present, he wouldn't have this issue.

No matter. He just needed show the civilians that he was not to be trifled with.

Haides' eyes glowed as he wiggled his arms in front of him, pausing before shoving them to the side angrily. Zillah and his two guards gaped as people were forcibly pushed to the side, parting like the Red Sea for the djinn.

"Much better," he smirked, a slight bounce to his step now that he had his personal space. "Come along, come along," Haides urged, looking back to wave his astonished entourage forward. "We need to find this Masrur." He skipped backwards a moment to bask in their looks, knowing to guard was going to start spreading rumors once they returned to the palace.

And, considering Haides' luck, he ran into a wall.

A tall, muscly wall.

Haides sighed, "He's right behind me, isn't he?" The synchronized nod was the only response the djinn needed. With a hop and a twist, he twirled around to face the living wall, his neck craning uncomfortably to meet the newcomer's blank stare. This was just getting ridiculous. "You must be Masrur!"

Masrur blinked, his eyes barely moving as he sized the dancer up. "I don't know you," he stated, monotone.

"And I don't know you. Funny that," Haides acknowledged. "I'm Haides, the Master of the Sapphire Pieces Tower. I am currently in charge of the palace while our King is away on business." He bowed, his braid dangling over his shoulder. With a sharp smirk, he straightened, eyeing the muscled teen.

"Hello," the warrior greeted, tipping his head in respect.

Zillah shifted uncomfortably and the bells of her dancer outfit tinkled, catching Haides attention. With one last appreciative look at the prominent muscles that were conveniently at eye-level, he turned to his girl.

His usually calm, cool, and collected dancer was barely holding herself together at the inquisitive murmurs of the citizens bombarded her from all sides. Some dared to get close enough to take a good look at her provocative outfit, a mimicry of Haides' clothing.

Haides had to bite his lip to keep from hissing at the curious busy-bodies. "Let us return to the palace," he suggested, his sharp smile directed at the crowd around him. "I'm sure there is much that we need to discuss. No point dawdling here."

"If you say so," Masrur agreed, having the audacity to lift Haides by his waist. The all-powerful djinn, Master of Death and the End of Ends, flailed as the giant redhead easily carried him through the crowds at his hip like a sack of potatoes.

"Put me down this instant," he hissed, hearing the citizens mutter and his dancer giggle softly. Haides tried kicking his legs and swinging his arms, no doubt looking like a constipated turtle.

"No," Masrur retorted stoically, not even pausing as he strolled back towards the palace. "It would be annoying if we lost you in the crowd."

Haides sputtered, indignant at his treatment. He wasn't sure how old Masrur was –though tall and heavily muscled, the boy's face looked younger than Zillah and no doubt millennia younger than the djinn – but this was just undignified.

The wind kicked up playfully, rustling the dangling bells of his clothing.

"You know what?" Haides snapped. "No. I am not doing this." The djinn relaxed, allowing the teen to take his full weight. Masrur didn't falter, his gait steady as he expertly maneuvered the streets, citizens parting before him. "I have more important things to do than be treated like a child."

"Master Hai-" Zillah tried to sooth him, her fingers hovering uncertainly over his limp ankle.

"I'll be back in a few hours. Zillah, take care of your sisters," Haides instructed. Calmed, the djinn arched his back, snaking around so he could look Masrur in the eye, albeit upside-down. "Do try to keep the palace in working order while I'm gone, Masrur."

The teenager's brow furrowed in confusion and he made to question the dancer.

Haides reached inwards, stroking the connection he still cherished from his previous king. It took a moment before his magic and Solomon really understand his silent request, but Haides was willing to wait for his dramatic exit.

"Ta-ta."

He burst into white butterflies and delighted in the astonished expressions of his companions as well as the watching citizens. From the redhead, however, his display only earned two bemused blinks. It was good enough.

Haides never said he wasn't a bit of an attention hound. Only a little, though, honest.

Now, to take care of that voice he heard a week earlier. He hoped it wasn't too late.

* * *

"I'm getting too old for this bullshit," Haides decided as he reformed. He knew the continents were not the most pleasant of places, but this was just ridiculous. The rukh whispered the truth of the country, Musta'sim, to him.

War was being raged around him, black hearts crying out at the injustice of their fates. He took a moment to watch as a wizardly looking fellow was cut down with a sword, only to be replaced by four more. Black rukh fluttered happily around the scene, painting the fighters in an ominous purple haze to Haides' sensitive eyes. The soldiers had the numbers and the magicians had the power it seemed.

An aura of death hung over the battle, like a cloud ready to rain corpses on the determined combatants.

Haides had no doubt who was going to win. The mundanes of this world were too medieval to put up much fight against an army of magicians. Armed with only swords and spears, they really had no chance of winning. Maybe in the future, but not right here and now.

And as interesting as the war was to the chaotic djinn, he did have a purpose to his visit.

He could hear the child easier.

_I'm so scared. They're dying and he won't let me go. I just want to be free! Mama, Papa, anyone, please!_

The voice was definitely a little girl, terrified out of her wits. He could see why. While the immortal might have had millennia to acquaint himself with death, this child sounded a few years older than Ekaterina, thirteen at most.

Haides sighed, but leisurely sauntered forward. Children in need really were his one true weakness.

He weaved around the fighters, following the ever-helpful white rukh that created a trail straight to his small target. He dutifully ignored the instances when stray black rukh converged on a white ethereal butterfly, only to be torn to bits by his tiny companions. Solomon was a passive god, but not one to be trifled with. Normally, Haides would have found his overprotective nature adorable. The djinn was not in the right state of mind, however, to joke with his former king.

He could _taste_ Arba's taint, though she obviously was not present herself. If she had been, Solomon would have alerted him to the former King's foster sister's presence. And, if not Solomon, Sheba would have. Just the thought of Arba's inky fingers digging her way into this world, staining it like Alma Torran pissed the ageless djinn off. When would it be _enough_ for her?

Too blinded by their hatred and fear, he was over-looked. Those that caught sight of the enchanting man mistook him for a spiteful ghost, cursing the fighters as they dealt death upon the land.

(The dead cowered back in fear as the djinn passed, feeling the cold power that was lurking under his false skin. No measly mortal could sense his overwhelming soul as if fluctuated wildly, ever in search of prey to calm its insatiable desires.

Only one person could sate the bloodlust that rumbled inside his heart, just waiting for the chance to break free and tear the world asunder. And that one person was, fortunately for her, nowhere to be seen.)

One soldier got too close, distracted and foolish, stumbling into the immortal's path. Haides merely blinked, his powers buzzing with the need to _terrorize_.

The man's head separated from the rest of his body as the djinn breezed on by. His corpse took a single faltering step, confused, before he collapsed onto the body-ridden ground.

Haides tsked. One fool of many that would fall due to the mechanics of a far more powerful being.

The rukh buzzed in annoyance at his slow pace, fluttering around his face in impatience.

"Since when was this a time sensitive mission?" Haides muttered, batting at the empty air around the ethereal butterflies in warning. "Calm your braid, brat**. **I was sight-seeing, smelling the roses and taking in the marvels of humanity."

The rukh actually drifted closer to whack him, gently, in the face with their wings.

"If you're going to be a brat, I'm going to keep calling you one," the djinn warned. He rolled his shoulders, exasperated with his previous king, but sped up. The sooner he rescued the presumed damsel in distress, the sooner he could return to his rooms.

He needed a nice long nap after the week he's had.

"Alright, guide me, oh wise and mystical Solomon. I am at your mercy," he droned, his usual mood peeking through his homicidal tendencies. The wind kicked up briefly and Haides rolled his eyes. He was always stuck with the drama queens.

Even with the unnecessary sass, the rukh followed through. Haides left the bloody battle and entered a seemingly random hovel, his ears pricked for strange sounds. It wasn't long before he found what he was looking for. The rukh hovered around a locked door, a heartbreaking sniffling sound funneling out.

"Little one?" Haides called, the sniffling replaced with a fearful gasp. "Little one, you summoned me. Are you well?"

"I…I am fine," the child responded. The djinn raised his eyebrow disbelievingly. The child, obviously catching onto his incredulous silence, continued. "Mr. Mogamett has locked me inside. I am safe in here, sir."

"Safe," Haides wondered. "Or trapped?" The child accidently let a sob escape. "I came at the behest of a damsel in distress, a small child crying out of freedom. Tell me, do you wish to leave that room?"

"How do I know you aren't here to hurt me? How do I know you will be any better than Mr. Mogamett?" the child argued. Haides could image her, curled up in a bed, a defiant frown on her face as she glared at a closed door.

He liked her spirit. The rukh, the spirits of his two beloved companions, whispered to him. They urged him forward, revealing minor secrets of this new world to the Master of Death.

"You don't," Haides agreed. "Tell me, little magician. What do the rukh say you should do?"

The child didn't answer for a moment, putting all of her attention in listening to the helpful butterflies that were invisible to the majority of the world. Haides truly pitied the mundanes who never got the chance to converse with their god. Solomon loved them all, but very few loved his newest form.

Haides would teach them to love him once again. And, he would start with the little magician girl who begged to be freed, both through her magic and through the rukh that sang beside her.

"The rukh love you," she announced, shocked. "They love you so much."

Haides' inhuman eyes softened, his bloodlust barely a simmer. "Yes, I love them as well. They brought me to you, little one. They say I can save you."

"Mr. Mogamett doesn't want me to leave. He will be unhappy if you take me," the child tried.

"You doubt my strength, little one?" the djinn chuckled, leaning his forehead against the locked entrance. Yes, he liked this one. And he was sure Sinbad would like her too, when he eventually returned.

"No," she declared. She took a deep breathe. "Save me, Handras."

Haides grinned manically, the use of his djinn name causing his power to burn through his veins.

"So you have wished it," he purred. "So it shall be."

With a blink, the door was blasted off its hinges. Haides stood in the threshold, looking into the room.

"Let's go home," the blue-haired girl on the bed smiled, lifting her arms welcomingly.

"Yes," Haides nodded. "Let's."

* * *

**I don't know what happened with this chapter. I just wanted to introduce Masrur and Yamraiha...**

**I'll have more interactions between Masrur and Haides next chapter, but I just had the image of teenage Masrur carrying Haides like a sack of rice. I had to do it. I really didn't get much into Masrur's personality, so I promise it'll be better next chapter. Stoic characters that actually have a personality under their blank face are _hard._**

**Ah, don't worry Haides. Soon, the short people will arrive and you can lord over them with a vengeance. **

**Yeah, Imma just mess around with ages for a moment. Don't mind me. (I am not having Haides meet Masrur at ten. I refuse. He's thirteen now.)**

**So, someone (Hi Yusuke kun!) spoiled me for some of what's gonna happen in the manga. I'm not in the mood to trudge my way through that, ever. As such, until I gather the nerves (or cares, really) to read it, this story's information comes up to the end of the Alma Torren arc. Everything after that is probably going to be ignored with a vengeance. Probably. Most likely. We'll see.**

**I took some time to rewrite parts of chapter 6. I'll make an effort on chapter 5 next.**

**Guest Reviews:**

**Pancake - Oh, if you need a Magi summary, I can create one for you! Though, I'm glad it's making sense even with only half of the information. Haha, thank you!**

**Anyway, I hope everyone enjoyed this chapter!**


	9. Chapter 9

**Special thanks to Cherri101 and Kademe! **

**I don't own Harry Potter, Magi, or the Adventures of Sinbad. **

**Really, Haides just wants to take a nap.**

* * *

Haides was not sure what he was expecting when he returned to the palace. Masrur had seemed like a competent young man, capable of dealing with assassins and fainting servants. So, with a relieved sigh, he had crossed mass destruction off of his list of expectations.

Perhaps mass destruction would have been a better alternative, however.

"Master Haides!" a servant exclaimed, relieved. The man was covered head to toe in food, a banana peel hanging off of his shoulder as an orange paste dripped from his hair.

Haides crinkled his nose, even as his newest companion giggled at the multi-colored man from her position above him in the djinn's arms. She was a tad bit heavy for the immortal, being a growing girl instead of his nearly pocket-sized Ekaterina, but he wasn't prepared to let her go just yet. She was too new to him to be away from his side while he was so tired.

"I don't want to know," he stated, brushing past the man, the girl twisting in his arms to watch the servant shiver and stutter where he stood.

"But, Master Haides!" the servant tried again, his voice high and shrill.

"Nope," Haides said. "I need a nap. I am too old to deal with this. Call Masrur, he's in charge now. Let him handle assassins and explosions and the baker's affair with the cobbler's daughter. Bed. Sleep. Now."

"But-!" the servant shouted.

"_Sleep_," Haides ordered. The rukh fluttered around the man, gently brushing against his checks. He swayed, confused, before falling to the ground in a dead faint, loud snoring echoing through the hall. "Was that so damn hard?"

"Handras," the girl giggled, her sharp eyes watching the rukh as they left the man to swirl around Haides once again in a bright tornado.

The shenanigans Haides had to put up with for his previous King. It was hard to see where he was going with all of his damn ethereal butterflies blocking his vision.

"Call me Haides, little one," Haides corrected. "Names have power and all that rot. Don't want the wrong ears to learn the truth. Would take the fun out of everything."

"Yamraiha," she stated. Haides hummed, knocking his head against hers in question. "My name. Yamraiha."

"It's nice to meet you, Yamraiha," he acknowledged. "Now, we sleep." He turned a corner, more than ready to bull-doze through anyone to get to his bed only to pull up short when faced with his darling girls.

"Master Haides!" Asenath cried, catching sight of the short immortal. "Master Haides, it's horrible. Master Masrur and Blaise are having a fight in the kitchen!"

"I," Haides started. "Am going to bed. You are more than welcome to join me."

"But…" the dancer trailed off, exchanging looks with her sisters. On one hand, Masrur might hurt Blaise, the beloved companion of Haides or Blaise might hurt Masrur, their king's comrade. On the other hand, a nap sounded like heaven to the frazzled girls. Even with Haides' training, the dancers were still novices in the art of protecting their home and loved ones. This was going above and beyond their meager abilities.

"Mama!" Ekaterina shrieked, peeking out from around her older sisters. "Mama, Blaise and the lion-man are fighting and it's so cool! Food is flying everywhere and I think the cook was crying! I told him you might forgive him if you made some treacle tart, but then the lion-man landed on him. He's sleeping now. Don't worry, I made sure he had a pillow! Oh," she blinked. "Who's that?" she asked, pointing at Yamraiha, who was watching as the little girl reenacted the daring battle between man and beast.

"This is Yamraiha, you're newest big sister," he introduced, waving his hand between his girls. "Yamraiha, this is Ekaterina, Zillah, Asenath, Candace, Galilee, Kezia, and Talitha. They are a small portion of your new sisters."

"It's nice to meet you," Yamraiha chirped. Her sisters returned the greeting, some (i.e. Ekaterina) more enthused than others. The older girls exchanged baffled looks.

Haides really didn't blame them. He was wondering himself how he kept gathering a mansion worth of children. When he said he wanted fifty children, he was _joking_. Mostly.

A little bit.

"Yes, yes, hello, good morning," Haides said, weaving through his girls, the door to the Sapphire Pisces Tower within sight. He was so _close_. "I'm tired. Beddy-bye time."

Ekaterina yawned, nodding in agreement. "I call sleeping next to Mama!" She trotted after the pair, slipping her tiny fingers around Haides' hand.

"I wanted to sleep next to Haides," Yamraiha muttered, petulant.

Haides huffed. "We sleep in a pile. There is more than enough space for both of you." He checked behind him, eyeing his dancers. "Are you coming?"

Zillah stepped forward hesitantly. "Are you sure it's alright to leave Blaise and Master Masrur to their own devices?"

"They're big boys, they'll be fine," he assured them. Blaise knew better than to kill a Red Lion. Haides had been quite fond of them, once upon a time. Plus, even if Masrur somehow managed to kill Blaise, Haides could simply conjure him up again.

The snipe was created through his thoughts, after all.

"Is everyone finally ready for a nap?" Haides asked, exasperated. One more distraction and he might be tempted to bring down the palace himself for a moment of peace and quiet. At the collective nod from his girls, Haides relaxed, leading the way to the tower, day-dreams of his soft, warm bed already dancing through his head.

* * *

Haides was _not happy_.

Once he had _finally_ arrived at his much missed bed, Haides had simply face-planted into the fluffy surface. He had been barely aware enough to notice his girls laying down around him as the darkness of sleep tempted him with its sweet embrace.

He lunged at the temptation, sinking into sleep with the ease of a swimmer slipping into water.

He was not happy to be woken up, only a handful of hours later to the sound of the room's door being eased open.

"Is this yours?" the baby Red Lion droned, not batting an eyelid at the immortal djinn's fierce, laser-worthy, glare. Masrur silently lifted his prize, presenting an obviously dead Blaise to Haides. Haides stared, blearily trying to understand why he was awake.

"S'me," he stumbled out, levering himself up to properly glower at the teen.

Masrur nodded, releasing the beast from his grasp so the corpse flopping against the ground in an unmanaged heap of broken limbs and too-loose scaly skin. Haides tracked Blaise's body, his mind still trying to process what he was seeing.

The Fanalis followed Blaise to the stone floor, crossing his legs as he stared at Haides. "My name is Masrur, it is nice to meet you."

Haides yawned, his mouth stretching wide as his mind slowly caught up with the present situation. "Do we really need to do this now? The girls are still sleeping, _like I should be._"

Masrur stared.

Haides sighed, reaching up his free hand to rug at his eyes. "Haides, Master of the Sapphire Pisces Tower. Now that we've done the meet-and-greet _again_, can I go back to sleep?"

Masrur stared.

"Oh, for fucks sake," Haides muttered. "What _is it?_" Asenath shuffled in her sleep, edging closer to Haides, hugging Ekaterina closer to her chest.

Haides could swear the Red Lion's lips twitched upwards in the vague beginnings of a satisfied smirk. Oh, he was onto him now.

"Sinbad said you know about the Dark Continent," the redhead said.

"Depends on how you define_ know_," Haides mused. He knew a lot of things, many of which had no place in this new world. The Dark Continent was one such thing, of course. Just mentioning something even vaguely relating to Alma Torran was a big no-no in Solomon's book.

(Not that Haides ever listened to Solomon. Besides, rules were for good little boys and girls. And, if there was one thing Haides remembered of his first family, of the Dursley's, it's that he _was not a good little boy._)

"I was told that I would never be able to return if I crossed the rift," the soldier, the _little boy_, continued.

"It's an all-or-nothing kind of deal," the djinn agreed. "You can't have doubts or regrets when you pass through the pearly gates."

"There were no gates," Masrur denied. "A trench and a house, with a strange man. Yunan."

Haides waved his hand. "A magi. Interesting, but all together expected. The Great Rift and the Dark Continent are important places to the rukh."

"You do know about the Dark Continent," Masrur pointed out, shrewdly.

Haides rolled his eyes. "I know more about this world than most people. Which is sad, when I think about it."

He woke up only months before and spent most of his time resting inside his seal. Haides frowned, lifting his fingers silently, ignoring Masrur's raising eyebrow, as he counted the number of weeks he had been aware of the new world surrounding him.

Two weeks. _Two weeks. Two weeks to gain a new family, to become fond of these flesh-beings that are dying slowly, who will one day leave him behind just like everyone else._

(Solomon - and Ron- accomplished this same miracle in bare minutes after meeting the immortal. Haides tried to keep this memory in mind, tried to hold the knowledge that Solomon never truly left him, close. He couldn't afford to push away his new companions because of their mortal fragility. Not now. Not this time.)

"Really sad," Haides added, surprised. Then again, he had the assistance of his previous knowledge and an all-knowing, all-seeing god as a constant companion. "Are you going to ask me what's on the other side of the rift, little lion?"

Masrur canted his head, his garnet eyes boring into the djinn's poison pair. He didn't give a single emotion away, merely watched, observed, judged.

"No," he replied. "I have made my decision. I will be staying here, at Sinbad's side."

"I like that answer," Haides grinned. "Hey, let's be friends." He leaned forward as far as he could. It was, admittedly, not far, considering the number of half-naked woman curled around him.

Masrur blinked. He glanced down at the hand, not bothering to look at the djinn's dancers, unknowingly gaining even more brownie points from the protective immortal. "Why?"

Haides scoffed, waving his hand meaningfully. "Why not?"

Masrur seemed to accept his answer, as he levered himself up and loomed over the seated Master of the Sapphire Pisces Tower. Haides's grin stretch wide as a heavily callused hand slipped into his matching palm.

"Besides," he added. "My girls are going to need an older brother figure. And the little assassin can only do so much when he's dealing with our King." He let their hands slide apart, the teen giving himself space between the djinn and his entourage.

"I'm younger than them," Masrur rumbled.

Haides raised an eyebrow, trailing his eyes over the redhead's muscular, towering form, the sword tucked within easy reach at his side, and the ancient, bloodied, look staining his gem bright eyes. "Somehow, I doubt that."

Masrur glowered, a distant suspicion he didn't bother to vocalize.

Haides huffed a loose strip of hair out of his face, exasperated. "My girls aren't fighters. Shocking, I know. I want them to know how to take care of themselves. I know a lot, but it's been awhile since I have really stretched my skills. You, though. I can practically taste the blood under your nails." Oh, the blood and the chaos and the _loneliness._ Haides could see what type of people Sinbad collected. The broken and down-trodden, who turned to his golden light like a god.

Really, his King, for all of his differences, was more like Solomon than Haides would ever admit out loud.

"You want to make them warriors?" Masrur repeated, finally looking at the dancers. Their skin was unmarked, soft and delicate. The way most men enjoyed their girls; passive, weak, useable. They looked more like a breathing mass of half-naked dolls than fighters.

Haides knew the heart, the boiling blood that simmered underneath that deceptive velvety skin. They wanted to smile at the world, with lips painted red and their nails sharpened to claws. They didn't want to be liabilities to those that saved them, victims again and again.

"They want to fight back," Haides corrected. "All they want is to be safe."

Haides wanted them to be safe. He wanted to be able to leave without worrying about the girls that found themselves under his wings. He wanted to know that _no one_ could ever hurt them the way Arba hurt Sheba or the way Bellatrix hurt Hermione or the way James Potter hurt Severus Snape. The way the Dursley's hurt _Harry_, so many lifetimes ago.

He wanted to protect them. He wanted them to protect themselves.

"I am a Fanalis," the little lion argued, a frown furrowed his young face. "My strength and speed would be too much for them. I could hurt them."

Haides smiled. "Good. If they can protect themselves against a man of above average abilities, they won't be stopped by someone as plebian as a drunk asshole."

"You're a strange man," Masrur allowed, nodding his head. "They must approach me. I won't come to them."

"Wonderful!" Haides chirped, clapping his hands together once in a loud burst. "Did you hear that, girls?"

Zillah and Candace's heads popped up, their eyes wide open as their smiles threatened to split their faces in two. Some of the other girls started to giggle amongst themselves, amused as Masrur stiffens in surprise.

"You're willing to teach us, Master Masrur?" Ahava wondered, awed at the young boy.

"If you're willing to learn," Masrur muttered, turning his head away from the half-naked crowd of women that chittered and snickered at him, overjoyed.

"I don't want to learn how to fight," Yamraiha announced, her face puffed in a stubborn pout. Her new sisters chuckled, amused.

"And why not, little sister?" Galilee asked, a condescending twist to her gentle smile.

"I am a magician!" the blue-haired little girl crowed, her chest swelled with pride. "I'm far above common fighting. I can manipulate the rukh to control the very elements!"

"And for that," Haides cut in, his voice hard. "I want you to do lessons with Masrur. Every day until King Sinbad returns."

"But," Yamriaha turned disbelieving, watery eyes to her savior. "Haides!"

"You do not manipulate the rukh," Haides frowned, his unearthly eyes boring straight into her crystal blue. "You do not control the elements. You are not a god and you will treat your siblings and natural abilities with the respect they deserve."

He might hold an affection for the magicians of this world, for their connection to Solomon and their similarities to his original home, but he remembered the downside to those abilities. Arrogance, superiority, hate, and eventual bloodshed.

He won't have anyone under his care be a bigot with their head up their own ass, spewing more shit than a sewage system.

"Do you understand me, Yamraiha?" Haides hissed, a strange raspy tone the girls had never heard from their caring and kind Master in the two weeks –_ lifetime –_they had known him.

"Yes, Haides," the teenager mumbled, throwing her face into her pillow to avoid looking at her sisters as they _stared_. Shame prickled at her, tinting her pale checks a bright red. She didn't understand what she did _wrong._ Haides sounded angry, the rukh that loved him so much buzzed with annoyance, twisting around his messy braid and tickling at his bared skin.

Yamraiha also didn't understand how he could so easily ignore the ethereal butterflies' affection.

This man, this immortal companion of the rukh, was so strange, so different from Mr. Mogamett. The little magician was almost bursting with curiosity over the man her savior had pledged himself to.

King Sinbad must truly be magnificent to have Haides.

"If that is alright with you, of course, Masrur?" Haides requested.

Masrur hummed, eyeing his potential students, the young blue magician specifically. She was small, childish. She was all rounded edges, dulled by her life. Still strong, if he had the patience to sharpen her up and train her for something other than hiding behind a breakable stick.

"I would be happy to," Masrur confirmed.

Yamraiha huffed into her pillow. She hoped the mysterious, gallant, knightly King Sinbad returned soon.

Before she died at the hands of her 'trainer' as Handras cackled at her misery.

Ekaterina, taking pity on her newest sister, silently patted her on the back in reassurance.

"Can I learn too, Mama?" she smiled up at the djinn, her eyes crinkling shut.

"Of course!"

Yamraiha groaned, a sound ignored by the giddy girls and their bemused soon-to-be-trainer.

* * *

**(At this rate, I'm just going to make a note on all of my stories that I am completely horrible at updating.)**

**One day. One day, I'll go back and edit the previous chapters of this story. **

**I keep wanting Yamraiha to act like/be treated like a seven year old and I have to forcibly remind myself that she's thirteen right now. I have absolutely no idea why I want to write a seven year old character. **

**I am so having a couple of time skips in the next couple of chapters. We have ten years to jump through before all of the fun can really start.**

**Guest Reviews:**

**Guest – Here you go! I hope it's up to standards!**

**I hope everyone enjoyed this chapter!**


	10. Chapter 10

**Happy Late-Anniversary Chapter, everyone! **

**I don't own Magi, the Adventures of Sinbad, or Harry Potter.**

* * *

Yamraiha was still grumbling three months later.

Haides didn't understand her distaste for learning how to physically fight. She diligently hunted down Masrur for every one of their lessons, but she did it with a pout. Her sisters were much more excited, hounding Masrur at any moment, begging for an extra session or pointers on a hold.

It warmed Haides's dusty old heart to see his girls flip the muscular teenager over their hips with a giddy laugh.

He just wished Yamraiha indulged in her sisters' glee instead of stomping around with a permanent cloud over her head.

"Mama!" Ekaterina called, waving her arm widely, catching sight of the immortal. Her current watcher, the quiet but vigilant Aseneth, waited until Masrur nodded in acceptance before turning to greet the Master of the Pisces Tower with a nod.

Haides held back his amused grin. For all his stoic nature, Masrur had shown himself to be quite the little troll. The first time one of his girls turned away from his instruction to greet their watching 'master' without making sure Masrur would pause, he responded by tripping them.

It only took four meetings with the ground before the girls started to understand that they should never show their backs to their enemy. Not without making sure they were done, at least.

"Haides," the little lion greeted, nodding his head slightly. Haides copied, bowing his head lower in deference to the teenager. "Is there something wrong?"

"Oh, no," the djinn assured, noticing as Ekaterina and Aseneth perked up. "It's been surprisingly quiet, actually. Not an assassin to be seen for days."

"Of course not," Zillah remarked, slipping out of a column's shadow to stand beside Haides. No one was surprised by her sudden appearance, more than used to it. Haides had barely waited a day after Masrur 'took control' of the palace before pulling the blonde dancer aside to teach her how to hear without being seen and how to hide. He liked to think of her as _his_ little assassin. The Ja'far to his Sinbad. He just needed to find the perfect weapon for the fierce little shadow. "With King Sinbad on his way back, no one wants to be…ah, caught with their pants down."

"Our king sure took his time," Haides said, canting his head. He remembered Solomon's promise of death and battle, with or without his assistance. He wondered which of the Court members would not be returning home. They were all strong warriors, more than capable of fending off anything Solomon's fate threw at them.

(The same could be said about Sheba and Solomon, however. Haides was enchanted with their will, with their strength. Only to end up with his King becoming a hollowed god and his lady-queen dead, cut down by the woman she saw as a sister. Fate, Solomon's or Ill Ilah's, was cruel.)

"A king is never late, everyone else is always early," Aseneth quipped, her smooth tenor barely a whisper.

Haides barked out a single laugh. "Don't let our king hear that," he warned her, jokingly. "He might take it seriously and give our poor little assassin an aneurysm."

"Nothing would ever get done," Zillah agreed.

"Mass chaos," Haides mused, his eyes narrowing in thought.

"Extra paperwork," his little shadow countered easily. The djinn's dark and destructive thoughts tumbled down his mental staircase, dying a horrible, painful death.

While Masrur took care of many tedious matters, such as stopping assassins and retraining the incompetent guard, Haides was still needed for more time consuming issues. Such as paperwork and finances.

The second Sinbad's feet touched Sindria soil, Haides resolved to Fiend Fire the paperwork to little ashes to be scattered across the seas. Just watch it try and torment him then.

"Maybe later," Haides promised, his fingers already warming up with the sweet thought.

"Is Papa coming back soon?" Ekaterina asked, squinting up at her guardian. She missed the funny King.

"King Sinbad was due back a fortnight ago," Zillah admitted.

"Don't worry," Haides soothed, catching how Ekaterina watched in confusion and Aseneth bit her lip in uncertainty. "Our King might be stupid, but he's strong. I would know if something happened to him."

A benefit of having his seal _on_ his King. Unlike other djinn, Haides couldn't be forcibly removed from his King's side and would know the moment his King was mortally wounded. As long as his seal remained intact, Haides had nothing to worry about.

Of course, he could say nothing for his King's mental or emotional state. Someone he loved and trusted will die, they were probably dead already. But, Haides stood by his decision to stay behind. People would die either way, and it was not Haides' way to play God, choosing who deserved to live or die. Let Solomon's Fate choose their end. The Hearth was far more important than a war.

"I am not sure King Sinbad would appreciate your words, Master Haides," Aseneth pointed out with a quirk of her lips.

"King Sinbad doesn't know how to take a compliment," Haides shot back, sticking out his tongue in jest. "He doesn't know how to do a lot of things."

"But," Ekaterina piped in, grinning. "That's why he has all of us."

"All of us are here to support our King, no matter how ridiculous he is," Zillah nodded firmly.

Haides smiled. He never felt the need to teach Solomon's ilk this lesson, about support and shadow protection. (_Maybe, maybe if he had, Arba wouldn't have fallen, wouldn't have twisted herself into knots he will need to cut out of her.)_

Masrur stared, bemused.

"Nothing will happen to King Sinbad within these walls as long as we are here," Haides agreed. His girls smirked, Zillah and Aseneth exchanging satisfied looks. In little less than three months, his adorable little snakes in the grass have completely transformed from soft girls locked behind a barbed wall of protection to the thorns that once kept them inside. He couldn't be prouder of the muscles slowly developing under velvety skin or the wild sparkle in their eyes.

He lost girls, of course. Girls that had no interest in developing callouses or scarring their unmarred, soft skin. He allowed them to leave, to find other work within the country. But, word between brothels spread. More and more women were asking to join the Court dancers. He even had Madame Akeldama calling up Candace to teach her own girls.

Haides, it seemed, had started something. Something new and strange and _wanted_.

And he couldn't be prouder.

"They are good girls," Masrur interjected, stepping forward as his girls chuckled between themselves. Ekaterina proudly showed off the few moves her body could handle and Aseneth adjusted her limbs until her form was near perfect.

"The best," Haides said.

"Better than the King's Guard," the little lion continued. Haides barked another laugh. The poor King's Guard, first Blaise and now Masrur, yet they were still inadequate.

"I can't fault farmers for their inability to wield swords," the djinn said. "If they falter, my girls will merely raise to the occasion."

"They are not yet skilled enough to stop threats against the King's life," the lion warned.

"_Not yet_," Haides repeated, grinning. "I love those words."

Those words showed promise and expectation.

And Haides knew his girls could live up to it all.

* * *

It was a week later when Haides awoke to Solomon's silent urgings, calling for his attention as the former King dragged him from his pleasant memories of worlds long since dead.

Haides groaned, but listened to the whispers of death and battle, how a man fell and never rose beyond the dirt from whence he was born.

Solomon was a bit of a drama queen, Haides knew well.

The djinn lazily watched as a pack of white rukh swarmed a grey butterfly before it had the chance to enter the cushion-dominated room. Beyond the war of butterflies, the sky was the color of ash, not yet brightened in the light of dawn.

"Did that idiot think he could sneak past me?" Haides grunted, easing himself out of the pile of bodies around him. Yamraiha muttered, curling around Galilee's warmth as her pillow fled the bed. "I swear, if I find him moping, I'll kick his ass. Keeping this place in one piece was so far beyond my pay grade."

Not that it mattered, really. Haides wasn't getting paid.

Solomon buzzed, the rukh diving before his face to gather his attention once more.

"Lay it on me, brat," Haides yawned, notching his neck side-to-side as it gave a series of satisfyingly wet _clicks_. "Who's dead, who's alive, and whose ass do I need to kick back into reality?"

Solomon buzzed again, but a single rukh's ethereal wings kissed his checks in the Queen's rambunctious giggle.

He hummed, content, as the bookworms showed him the battle he missed, a trail of rukh kicking at his heels as he maneuvered his way out of the Sapphire Pisces Tower. He was surprised to learn of the magi tainted with Arba's poison, of the new alliance Sinbad pieced together in the face of tragedy.

He barely placed a foot across the threshold of the Purple Leo Tower when he ran into his second favorite shadow.

"Haides," Ja'far greeted, seeping out of the shadows. "Is it not late to be wandering the halls?"

Haides hummed, watching the assassin, how he favored his left side, how his eyes were as dark as the shadows he inhabited. "Is it not early to be sneaking into the palace? Ekaterina and the girls are excited to greet their King and Masrur has much to discuss with Sinbad."

"Sin does not wish to be disturbed," Ja'far stated, his hands hidden by his lengthy sleeves. His arms trembled, not in bloodlust, but exhaustion and wary sorrow. Haides took a step closer, a smirk worming onto his lips. "Mind your place, Haides," the assassin warned. His eyes flashed with the blood he has spilt while his body shook from the comrade he failed.

"Mind your limits, little assassin," Haides advised. The rukh whispered, slips of truths flowing from their lips and off of his. "You are not a protector, no matter how hard you try." A protector, maybe not. But he could be so much more. A rock, a guardian, the one solid point as the world pops and cracks, burring together at the seams. "_Rest_."

Haides stooped to catch the white-haired teen before he managed to clonk his head on the stone floors. He cradled Ja'far, staring down at the deep shadows under his usually calm eyes. He sighed, rolling his eyes skyward. "Let's get you to a bed. You're useless to our King if you exhaust yourself."

He marched ahead, no doubt an interesting image. So much so, that no one even thought about stopping him until he reached Sinbad's guarded room.

(He might have also knocked out everyone who spoke up against his presence in the Tower. He kicked around these same guards over the last month – like hell was he going to let them walk all over him now that Sinbad was back.)

"Master Haides!" one of Sinbad's three guards called, startled. "Was there something you needed?"

"Is that Lord Ja'far?" the second guard muttered to the third. Haides scrolled through his memories, failing to place names to the familiar faces.

"Don't mind me," Haides reassured. "I just need to speak with our King about sneaking around and waking me up."

The three guards exchanged uneasy looks, obviously remembering Haides and Masrur repeatedly beating respect and technique into their muscles. "King Sinbad has requested absolute privacy, Master Haides."

The djinn's genial smile dropped into a deadly blank stare, a look the guards were frightening familiar with. "Step aside, boys," he warned.

The first guard shuffled, but was held in place by his two companions. Haides let out a breath, frustrated. Oh, it was good Sinbad had such loyal subjects, people willing to fight for him. It was just annoying for that loyalty to be used against him and being considered lesser by his King's people would get him nowhere.

Respect was _necessary_ if he wanted to move forward.

He heaved, shifting Ja'far's considerable weight over his shoulder as he flexed his fingers threateningly. "_Move,"_ he tried again, adding power to his command. A little too much power, as the three guards flew out of the way, as if a giant hand smacked them from their posts. When they groaned, clearly alive, Haides shrugged. "I warned them, didn't I?" he asked Solomon, raising an eyebrow as the omnipresent vessels buzzed in annoyance. "Somebody's pissy."

Without waiting for a response – really, the best way to ride out the brat-god-king's passive-aggressive temper was to ignore it – Haides knocked on Sinbad's bedroom door.

With his foot. And a lot of force.

"Oops," he smirked, stepping into the Royal Bedroom for the first time. He was underwhelmed. It wasn't much different from Solomon's room, simply lacking the overflowing bookcases and layer of paper covering the stone floor.

"Ja'far, I said I wanted to left alone," a fluffy purple pillow on the fluffy circular bed mumbled. Haides coughed, once, his smirked fixated on his face as the sheets thrash about. A tan face, framed by loose, long purple hair popped up, red stained eyes glaring over at him.

The djinn relished in the wide stare his King gave him as he strode forward. "My apologies, my King. However, I hope you weren't expecting to slip past me after leaving me all on my lonesome for so long?"

"Haides?" he questioned. Closer now, Haides watched intently as his King slowly pieced together a wall around his heart, steel to tame the creature he called a djinn. "What are you doing in here? I did not ask for your presence." The poison-eyed man hummed, noting the tinge and twist to the King's voice, the sorrow that tainted him to his weakened heart.

"Who died?" he asked, gently slipping the assassin under the blankets before crawling in after.

"Don't–!" Sinbad started, shoving himself up to glare at his bed invader. He faltered at Haides' unimpressed, unconcerned stare. "You knew," he breathed, his entire face shutting down as his mind went numb. "You knew he would die."

"Huh. It wasn't the little assassin, I know that already. Was it the warrior? The dragon? The knight? Or did you pick someone else up while I wasn't watching and stupidly grew attached?"

Sinbad's numb disbelief burned away into anger, a cold anger he knew only for his former mistress and the manipulative, wandering magi. "Do you even care that Mystras is dead?" he snarled, leaning in to glare into the immortal being's deadly eyes.

"No," Haides said, his voice deep with truth as his eyes darkened in a centuries' old darkness. "I really don't. Why should I? I've grieved my share already, let someone else give a damn. You humans are of no import to me."

The room was quiet, Ja'far's quiet breathing the only sound to break the tense silence.

"You don't really believe that," Sinbad decided, resting back against a set of fluffy pillows.

"Oh, trust me, my King," Haides denied. "I don't lie."

"You care about those girls," Sinbad continued. "You care about Ja'far and Ekaterina and me."

"Presumptuous, arrogant, insolent–" Haides listed, crawling towards Sinbad with each word, the thin sheets getting uselessly tangled around his legs.

"Right," the King cut in, reaching out to tug his eighth djinn against his chest. The raven's ear landed solidly on his seal, seared right over the adventurer's heart. Haides stiffened, hearing the steady thumping as blood was pumped through this living, breathing body. "I'm right."

Haides huffed, but nuzzled closer to his King's Candidate. "So, it was the knight, huh?" he dodged. "Never liked him."

"You remembered his name," Sinbad pointed out. "Why did you stay behind? You could have saved him."

"I could have saved a lot of people," Haides stated, fuzzy images of friends long since dead dancing forward from the darkness each time he blinked. "Doesn't mean I would have. Last time I chose battle over protecting the hearth…"

So many people died. People who couldn't fight, who didn't deserve to die. By fighting at his King's side, by trusting his heart rather than his gut, Haides doomed Solomon and Sheba and Aladdin to their friends' betrayal. Even before then, so many years ago that the memories were fuzzy and blurred, Harry Potter choose his mission over his home, leaving Hogwarts in the hands of the enemies as students suffered. (_If he had simply stayed behind…)_

"Haides," Sinbad called, his fingers deftly pulling apart his braid. "Haides, what happened the last time you had to choose?" The sneaky man carded through his djinn's hair, carefully untangling any knot he came across.

Haides practically melted in the man's lap. "Can't get me to give up my secrets that easily, Idiot King," he muttered, his eyelids fluttering with his King's movements.

Sinbad hummed, apparently disagreeing as he scratched at Haides' scalp. He tucked his head down, burying his face in his djinn's loose hair. "What happened?"

The immortal grunted, squirming in an effort to get comfortable. The rukh whispered through the air, roosting over the duo, the memory of a rambunctious woman and an ambitious man watching over their companion.

"People died," he huffed, a gentle finger tracing his seal. "You humans are unnervingly fragile."

Sinbad reached up, curling his fingers around Haides', pressing the digits against the sigil. "With your help, the help of a djinn, we can be so much stronger. Strong enough to survive, to beat back every enemy Fate throws at us."

"I knew it," Haides chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief. Figures he was stuck with a loyal believer in Fate, after everything he's done to derail the fabric of destiny during his long life. "You only wanted me for my body." The djinn raised an eyebrow, daring the King to argue, to disagree. Sinbad failed to comply, his gaze locked on the small djinn, noting the sharp smile and looming darkness.

He knew the other man was dangerous, deadly even. He was a _djinn;_ not human. But, Sinbad also knew the troublemaker who lashed out at mentions of his height and adopted the unfortunate to rise them up from their previous status. He knew enough to know it was not a mistake to trust his djinn, the being who already promised himself to the King's cause.

"I want a lot more than your body," Sinbad replied, his eyes sweeping up the djinn's form intently. Haides stiffened, startled as he snapped upright to stare at his King.

"How forward," he noted absentmindedly. Sheba's laugh echoed through the chamber with each shift of the rukh, Solomon's frown outlined with every flutter of their wings.

"I want to become one with you, Handras," Sinbad continued.

"Not how I was expecting this to happen," Haides admitted, feeling the tingle of adrenaline run up his spine at how his Solomon-given name shaped Sinbad's lips. "I imaged wine and dancing. And a lot less clothes, but I guess that's optional."

"Let's start training our djinn equip," the King finished, tilting Haides' chin so the smaller man could get a good long look at his blinding, confident smile.

"See, now, this is how you get yourself killed."

"What? Did I do something wrong?" Sinbad asked, noticing his comrade's unimpressed glare. He thought it was perfectly romantic, clearing expressing exactly what he wanted from the djinn while showing his trust in the immortal. "I'll need to call upon your strength the next time one of our comrades are in danger, Handras. Don't you trust me?"

"I have spent barely two weeks in your presence and most of that time was while I was bonding with my dancers," Haides pointed out, pressing down the savage grin that wormed into existence with every jolt to his system his name brought.

"After you dwelt within my soul for five months," Sinbad reasoned. Haides blinked, surprised. He hadn't realized the King remembered that little detail. Then again, Sinbad was an idiot, not brain dead.

The djinn sighed, flopping beside the King to pout. "Fine, fine, we can start practicing. On one condition!" he barked, giving Sinbad the stink-eye when he jostled the bed as he scrambled out. Poor Ja'far slept on, magically held under the veil of rest and thankfully undisturbed by the motion. "You'll come to the Tower to meet your newest daughter."

Sinbad faltered, stumbling as he shrugged on his open vest, settling into his adventurer's clothing easier than Haides has ever seen him in his official royal attire. The self-made King spun around as Haides sprawled in his bed, his muscular arms weaving across his chest. Haides smirked at the prideful man, his eyes trailing over the edges of his seal the vest displayed.

He thought he might like the royal attire more, as nice as it is to see Sinbad's tanned skin bared for his viewing pleasure. His sign was _different_ from his fellow djinn's, _personal. _It felt almost scandalous to have it so boldly shown. It might have something to do with the lingering elements of his past, of his Title obvious in the triangle surrounding the encircled star and the line bisecting the design.

"Right after you meet your new son," Sinbad shot back, his chest puffing out as Haides managed to tumble straight out of the _extremely_ comfortable bed before crashing onto the stone floor with the grace of a lemming leaping off a cliff.

His ruffled head popped up at Sinbad's bark of laughter. "You got me a son?" He pushed away thoughts of Teddy and of Sheba's limp arms stretched uselessly over her bulbous stomach where she had previously cocooned her unborn son, a hole in her chest and a pool at her side. "I thought you found me lacking in my parental capabilities?"

"We picked up one of my subordinates on our trip," Sinbad explained, pausing when he noticed Ja'far was also curled up in his bed, tucked in and astonishingly deep asleep. He couldn't remember the last time he had seen the former assassin so relaxed in rest, his body usually tense and ready to attack at the first disturbance. "Sharrkan was training to be a swords master with old teachers of mine. Now that he's on Sindria soil, he needs a role model."

"A babysitter you mean," Haides said, pulling himself up to stand akimbo. "I have my duties to my girls."

"Take him along," Sinbad gave a chuckle. "I'm sure he'd enjoy it."

"They already have a big brother," Haides corrected, tapping his foot in annoyance. At Sinbad's confused eyebrow raise, he continued with a roll of his eyes. "Masrur? The little lion with more muscles than you?"

"I wasn't expecting Masrur and the girls to bond so quickly," the King admitted. "He's not usually very social." He waved the djinn forward, a slight gentleman's bow of courtesy folding his waist. Haides responded by kicking him in the shin.

"I asked him to train the girls in combat," Haides supplied, leading the way out of Sinbad's royal suite and into the hall. Sinbad winced, eyeing his unconscious guards as he limp-shuffled.

"Was that really the best idea, Haides?" he tried tentatively. The djinn hummed, thinking it over for a moment.

"They're old enough to make their own decisions, my King," Haides answered. "Some left for Madame Akeldama's, but those that have remained are so much stronger, both in body and in mind. They will fight to the death to defend this country."

"I don't want them dying for this country. I am Sindria's King and I will lay down my life for my people," Sinbad's face was still, cold even, when he replied. The pain in his voice, fresh and raw, was so very real to the djinn that he was forced to look away. He had no wish to deal with grief, his or anyone else's. He knew better than anyone the specifics of death, of watching others leave you behind for the 'Next Great Adventure'.

"It's not really your choice, now is it?" Haides said, enjoying the titter of wings as the rukh surrounded them in agreement. He pitied the human for not being able to see Solomon's vessels, for not being able to hear the voices of the Original King and Queen, for not being able to understand how his heart ached every time his bookworms brushed their very soul against his fake flesh. He, better than anyone, knew Death. "It's theirs."

"It's not a choice they should need to make," Sinbad argued. "And I will do anything to protect them from it ever becoming necessary."

Haides smiled, but didn't answer, choosing to allow their walk to the Silver Scorpio Tower to continue in silence. It was far too early to wake the Palace up with a lively debate, after all. Telling Sinbad where to shove his ego would not end well for either of them. Especially not right before training.

"You don't agree," Sinbad said, cutting through the calm. He stopped, his face twisted in confusion.

Haides slashed his unearthly eyes towards his King, his stare unamused. His smile never wavered, but the King was unnerved by how dead it looked on the djinn's face. "You can't protect everyone. It's unrealistic and selfish. If they want to fight, let them. If they want to cower behind your strength, that is just as well. It is not your place to dictate their choices."

"Is that not what you are doing with your girls? Shoving them towards violence and bloodshed?" Sinbad shot back.

Haides remembered a man with the eyes of stars and hair of tarnished silver. He remembered a man whose heart was stained as his body. He remembered a boy, as light as a lamb with a throat just as pretty. He remembered a lot of things that simply did not matter.

"My girls do what they want. Anyone who tries to tell them otherwise are those who should be wary, my King," Haides disagreed. He hop-skip-stepped towards the Tower, his entire body itching with the possibility of letting lose, of merging his power with a worthy King.

"Now, enough of that. Sinbad," the djinn grinned, a skeleton smile of teeth. "Be a dear and show me the will of my chosen King."

(More than strength, more than charisma, Sinbad needed will. Without that, Arba and her poison would eat through him. And Haides would tear him apart before that could happen, just as he should have cut down Arba the moment her heart shifted. _He was simply too soft._)

* * *

**I might be stalling on reading Magi, but I kicked my ass into gear long enough to catch up on the Adventures of Sinbad, right after I caught up with Tokyo Ghoul:re. Cause I still don't know when everyone starts dying, Imma do it all myself and laugh a little. (Sinbad's stint at Mama Crazy's house is firmly locked in my mind until the day I die.) – Pst, I'm totally calling some of the dancers former Mama Crazy slaves. Explains their need for protection and connection to violence so well.**

**Please tell me this was good enough for everyone waiting for some Sinbad/Harry flirting? **

**For those thinking Sinbad 'got over' Mystras' death quickly, it's kinda old news to him. He's had to deal with this knowledge for weeks, with no real place he can do to be alone and just let it all out. He's emotionally drained and needs a distraction, but he has by no means forgotten about Mystras already. **

**Guest Reviews:**

**Maxiev - Thank you! I'm glad you enjoyed it!**

**I hope everyone enjoyed this chapter! The aftermath and reunions are next!**


	11. Chapter 11

**So, I'm studying abroad in for a few months. I'll make a conscious effort to keep on track (attempting one update per story a month.**** Does that sound fair to everyone?) but Imma mainly be spending my time in classes or, ya know, exploring Europe. Not that you guys aren't used to my lazy updating by now though...**

**Anyway, I'm back and itching to move my stories along. **

**I don't own Magi, Adventures of Sinbad, or Harry Potter. **

* * *

"This is something different," Sinbad stated, twisting his right hand around. Or, rather, what he assumed was his right hand. Being a cloud of dark mist made body parts hard to distinguish.

_Is different good or bad?_ Haides asked, the impression of a smug smirk slipping between the King's thoughts. _I always seem to forget. What with you throwing a fit half the time I try to make life interesting._

"I could call it interesting, as well," Sinbad admitted. He tried to think of a form, of solidifying and attacking someone. Of _using_ his djinn equip. The black mist that was, apparently, his body stirred. "I could call it a lot of things."

_Oh, Stupid King,_ Haides murmured, amused and soft and just to the left of _fond_. _I am Chaos. I am Trouble. I am Death and Despair and Change. I am not controlled. I am only accepted, feared._

Sinbad tried to _accept_. Mystras was dead, so were his mother and his father and Serendine. His friends would, too, one day die. Each and every one of them. His country would one day crumble and his people would turn to ash. Maybe it would be his fault. Maybe he would be forced to watch everything he cared for _fall_.

"I don't think I can do that," Sinbad stated, a sheepish laugh warbling through his gaseous body. It flickered, once, shifting.

_You can't accept the inevitable? _Haides wondered. _You have no use for me or my power if you can't accept that death is at your heels, waiting for you to falter. _

(He would know, after all).

"You mistake me, Handras," Sinbad continued, thinking back on the past months away from Sindria and the week he spent in Haides' company. How the djinn flipped between extremes, how he pushed and nudged and eyed the world as if playing a game. How the immortal was soothed by smiles and kindness and innocence, how he _reached out_ to desperate grabbing hands and pulled them from damnation. "I cannot fear you."

_Oh?_ Haides hummed, amused. _You who falters and faints and hisses and whispers about as if I can hear nothing. You who plots and plans and thinks about ways to subdue me. You do not fear me?_

"How can I fear someone who trusts me so wholly?" Sinbad countered, _feeling_ his body edge into a shape, twisting until he could sense wind on skin.

_Trust is for children,_ Haides remarked, his amusement dying, stabbed in the gut with a knife millennia old.

Sinbad could _feel _pain and grief pouring from the wound.

"You're open to me like this, Handras," Sinbad noted, tasting the false nature of the name, sensing the power and lies lurking behind it. He _knew_ a lot about his newest and most interesting djinn now that they were thrown together, melded like welded metal. "Surely, I am open to you as well."

The djinn was silent, a _hiss _of discomfort keeping Sinbad's solidifying body loose and fluid.

"Go on, take a look," Sinbad welcomed the immortal.

Haides roiled, his consciousness snapping against Sinbad's fiercely. There was no pain, though the King expected some. The act was as if a large dog started barking; alarming, but all together harmless.

They separated with a sputter and a spark, Sinbad's fully corporal body flopping gracelessly onto the stone floor as Haides floated like the otherworldly being he was.

"Rude," Sinbad said, grunting as he tried to sit up. Nothing seemed broken, but his tail bone was definitely bruised. "And I was just starting to get the hang of it, too."

"Never again," Haides stated, finally allowing his feet to touch the ground. He stood defensively, his stare wary and guarded.

Sinbad was bewildered by the unfamiliar look.

"Why did you stop, Haides?" he asked. "If we are able to complete the equip, think of how strong we could be!" He tasted a sense of distress, of ancient fear, ancient _failure_ gripping the back of his neck, a lingering ghost of Haides' mind pressing too close.

"That was a mistake," Haides said, tugging on the sheer scarf resting on his shoulders like a shawl. He tried to wrap it around his whole body, tried to cover his head and shield his bare chest. He felt naked, stripped bare before his King. How could his fellow djinn _stand it_?

"Haides?" Sinbad called, levering himself to his feet as he tried to tether his djinn's attention. "Haides, it's alright. We can try again later. I wasn't expecting to get so far on our first attempt."

Haides turned poison green eyes on his King, his face twisted in discomfort. "We are never doing that again, Sinbad. I refuse."

For all of his power, Haides could feel he had no say. And, oh, didn't that irk him, a familiar chain twining its way around his neck, claiming his freedom. If Sinbad called for him, Haides would come, fighting the entire time if need be, but he would come.

His old Prophecy, the claims of a woman he barely knew and a man he dared to trust, whispered through his mind, chanting his fate again and again.

He had no choice, Sinbad held his leash. (Why did he think leaving his Dungeon would be a good idea? He was locked away for a reason, his Dungeon never called into being for a _reason._)

Sinbad sighed, reaching up to ruffle his hair. "Very well then," he agreed.

Haides froze, startled. "What?" he dared to ask.

"You are both my _djinn_ and my _friend_, Haides," Sinbad said, watching the smaller man pull himself together. "I won't force you to do something you do not wish to."

"You're too damn soft," Haides decided after a moment. He left it at that, choosing to walk away, rather than waste more of his time around his fool of a King.

Sinbad did not miss the soft, pleased smile Haides allowed to appear on his face.

* * *

Haides was barely able to leave the Scorpio Tower training area, a slight smile still resting pleasantly on his lips. It dropped quickly.

"Mystras, huh?" he said. The rukh flew overhead, dancing to a tune he could almost hear, stony silence and the patter of quiet tears. "He was loyal. And kind."

It didn't hurt, to know the boy with the excitable smile had passed in his absence _(again)_. Frustrating, maybe, to _know_ he was still so weak. Soloman had not lied – Haides knew his presence would have made matters worse. Facing off against Arba's taint while his King was still so inexperienced in Haides' power…

No, it was better this way. He had no desire to tear his former King's peaceful world asunder with his unquenchable rage.

But, now with Mystras dead, who would represent Sinbad's alliance with Sasan?

Haides halted and glanced out over the sunny country his King had established through blood and tears, his hardships and sacrifices as heavy as the stones his people stepped upon.

"It hurts," Haides said. "How much you love these people, Solomon, Sheba. It kills me that they will never love you back."

It was almost enough to make him hate all of them.

"Ah, Master Haides, there you are!"

Haides languidly checked over his shoulder, catching sight of Galilee immediately. She waved at him sheepishly, joining at his side. "Is something wrong, Galilee?"

"A young boy has been placed in the Pisces Tower," she said. "Our newest little sister has taken offence to his presence. Oh, Master Haides, it is the cutest thing!"

"A young boy," the djinn mused. "Our King has informed me that he has left a returning companion in our care. Perhaps…"

"The King gave you a child?" Galilee repeated.

Haides chuckled. "Something about being a role model and showing him the ropes. I didn't pay much attention; our King was a bit distracting."

Galilee blinked, startled, but smiled. "He's delightfully ferocious from what I saw."

He huffed, rolling his shoulders and cracked a kink in his neck. "Why am I not surprised?"

"Because you bring out the best in others?" Galilee tried. She giggled at Haides' responding exasperated glare. "You can only blame yourself, Master."

"Me and my weak heart, yes, I know." Haides ran a hand through his hair. He slanted a look at his dancer, catching the way she bit her lip. "There is no need to call me that."

"You are the Master of Pisces Tower –" Galilee began.

"And the surrogate parent of everyone under my care," Haides finished firmly, bopping her on the back of the head. "I'd rather be called 'Mother' by you girls than 'Master'. It leaves a bad taste in my mouth when my own kids act subservient."

Galilee massaged the spot and ducked her head. "…sorry."

"Don't apologize," Haides said, rolling his eyes to the heavens. He could hear his bookworms laughing at his plight, those absolute hypocrites. Solomon still didn't know how to handle a crying Sheba last the djinn checked.

"Yes, Ma-ma Haides."

Haides could accept that. He ruffled her short, jaw length hair, laughing when she hissed and scrambled to bring her disordered locks back under her control. "Let's meet your fierce little brother then?"

"I'm sure he'll love you, just like all of us do!"

* * *

Haides did not expect the new boy to catch sight of him the moment he slid into the main room. It was a baseless assumption, but Haides was so used to his girls rather than people with Yamraiha's innate rukh connection or Masrur's senses. The boy's immediate reaction managed to get a bemused blink when the djinn was called out.

"Who're you?" the boy asked, frowning over at him. Yamraiha fumed at his back, her beloved staff clenched between two white-knuckled fists. The boy turned to Masrur, who watched the proceedings with lazily lowered eyelids. "Who is he?"

"Master Haides, of the Sapphire Pisces Tower," Masrur said. His gaze flicked over to Haides, gifting the djinn a nod in greeting. "Sinbad wants you to learn from him when you are at the palace. He has left you in Haides' care."

"Our King neglected to inform me as to your name," Haides opened, presenting a smile to the young teen. The boy watched him warily, a hand on his sheathed sword as Haides walked closer.

Galilee, sensing the tension, kept to the wall and edged around until she stood beside her observing sisters. Ekaterina greeted her with a muffled squeal and a tackle hug to the knee.

"Sharrkan," the young swordsman said. "Master Haides, huh? What exactly do you do down here?"

"Sharrkan," Haides repeated, canting his head. Solomon's vessels whispered a fraction of a truth to him – a boy once with dead eyes and a heart as shackled as his fate. Deadly as the serpents he shared a kinship with but as fragile as the gold he once painted himself with.

Yamraiha lit up beyond the glow of the rukh. "They really love you, Haides. It's so beautiful!"

Sharrkan stiffened, looking between Haides' amused smirk and Yamraiha's elated beam.

"Oh, that's right Yamraiha," Haides remembered. He put Sharrkan's question on the shelf for the moment and focused on his newest daughter. "I was wondering if you could hear the rukh when they speak to me like this?"

It would be so much easier if _someone else_ could hear his former King and Queen. If there was _one more person_ who could listen to them and _love them_.

"I understand their feelings more than what they are trying to say," she admitted. "If I listen really hard, I can hear a word or two. I know they love you so much and how sad they are, but otherwise the rukh are silent to me. I think only the legendary magicians, the Magi, can do what you can, Haides."

"Who's feelings? You're talking about the rukh?" Sharrkan cut in. "The rukh dictated by the God-King Solomon?"

Haides felt his heart falter, as if hearing his previous King's name threatened to end his existence where he stood. "Yes. As a magician, Yamraiha can communicate with the rukh on a level other humans cannot begin to comprehend. I suppose you could say I am a magician as well, but with a greater connection to the rukh."

Sharrkan's nose crinkled, distasteful. "Magicians are so lazy," he groused. "What happens when your fragile staff breaks? You're no better than a scrambling mouse. If you'd pick up a sword, maybe you'll actually be useful in a fight."

"I need to fight you with a sword to earn your respect?" Haides said. He turned to his girls, who tittered. "That _is_ what he said right? A sword?"

Sharrkan crossed his arms, huffing. "What do you know about swordsmanship, Master Dancer?"

"I admit, I am a bit rusty," Haides conceded sheepishly. "It has been a _number_ of years, but…" He reached out to the side with his right hand, flexing his hand sharply. "My old swordsman honor does not allow me to back down from this challenge, boy."

Arba and Solomon weren't around in the Dungeon to spar with and maybe that was why he started to disfavor his physical weapon over his magic.

Whatever his personal grievances of handling his former, and Arba's favorite, weapon, he couldn't afford to have any of Sinbad's comrades to doubt him for a second, whether they would be incorporated into his modest family or not. His old sword, a cherished relic from his first life, the Sword of Gryffindor materialized in his awaiting hand.

Sharrkan scoffed at the magical display as Yamraiha went through a strange twist of anticipation and disappointment.

"Your sword looks Partavian," Sharrkan noted.

"It's goblin made," Haides informed him. "A family heirloom, I suppose."

(Once upon a time, Hogwarts was more of a home to Harry than anywhere else, his friends there more of a family than anyone else.)

Sharrkan responded with a raised eyebrow and a lunge at his unprotected stomach.

Haides twisted to the right on the balls of his feet. He swiped at Sharrkan's open side, his sword knocked into over-extension by the teen's curved black blade.

Sharrkan moved to take advantage of Haides' imbalance, only for the djinn to turn with it, his retaliating roundhouse kick dodged as the former prince stepped back.

They held their positions, Sharrkan standing straight with his black sword loosely held at his side and Haides crouched on the floor with his silver sword to the side and behind him. Both were smiling, Sharrkan more fiercely than Haides.

The djinn tried not to pant.

He was _so_ out of shape.

"Com'on, old man, don't tell me that's all you got?" Sharrkan laughed, slashing his sword through the air to keep his blood pumping. "This is the most fun I've had since I got on that damned ship."

"Respect your elders, punk," Haides managed.

"Respect your betters, old man," Sharrkan shot back.

"If that's how you want to be," Haides decided. He used the Sword of Gryffindor as a crutch to stand straight before dismissing it. "Time to play this game by my rules."

"Wait – what? You barely showed me your swordsmanship!" Sharrkan protested. In his dissent, the punk flailed his sword through the air like a child instead of the practiced motions of an experienced swordsman. Haides raised his eyebrow, unimpressed. The punk was good, really good.

Nowhere near Arba's level just yet, but Haides could respect his skill, just as he respected Masrur's expertise in physical combat.

He was _young_, however. Young and, while he knew war and tragedy and _pain_, Sharrkan still reacted like boy.

"No time for that," Haides said, resting his hands on his cocked hips. "You're already surrounded."

That shut the punk up. Startled, he lowered his weapon, checking around. Haides' girls stood against the walls, smiling and giggling. Yamraiha sneered from where she stood next to an amused Zillah.

Each girl had their arms bared, from their shoulders down to the tips of their fingers, bruises and developing muscles on full display. Haides felt pride flicker into a bonfire at the predatory hover they achieved all on their own.

"You're relying on girls to fight your battles, old man? Where is your swordsman honor?" Sharrkan challenged.

"I never said I was a swordsman anymore. I am quite content with being the Master Dancer of Pisces Tower," Haides said, his smile tilted into a condescending smirk. "I would hope, as one of our King's companions, that you would not ascribe to a fanciful ideal like honor. It is rather childish."

The punk's cheeks colored and he glanced away, scanning the line of girls who eyed him. "Is that why Sinbad sent me here? To learn how to cheat?"

"No," Haides decided. "He sent you to learn how to _live." _The djinn reached out a _(scar-less, and wasn't that the strangest part of this body, Solomon?)_ hand, palm up. It was quiet, a question with only one answer.

Sharrkan took his hand, hesitant but firm.

"Welcome to the family, Sharrkan."

* * *

Haides sighed, lying in his cushion bed surrounded by his girls. Sharrkan and Masrur were, strangely enough, insistent on returning to their rooms in the Purple Leo Tower with their fellow inner circle members.

The djinn would much prefer if his two distant sons would stay within his sight. They were stronger than most of their sisters, yes, but it was harder to know they were outside his immediate sphere of protection while they slept on the other side of the palace.

With all that had happened in just one day, Haides needed to keep his favored humans close at hand, for his peace of mind if not for anything else.

There was a lot he needed to think over, now.

His King had been open to Haides' eyes in a way the rukh had refused to delve for him before.

His King had loved a woman, once. She was brave and fierce, fiery in a way that complimented Sinbad's wanderlust and she never wanted to leave his side, for she loved him too.

Death simply loved her more.

There was no helping the hollow pain that sucked at his King's heart, the way Solomon's _ascendance_ cut away at Sheba until her eyes were little more than coal.

And Haides worried about what Sinbad had seen, looking into his ancient heart.

But…before that…

Haides grinned, sharp and deadly and so completely inhuman. "Don't think for a second I didn't notice you, you pathetic snake-faced runt."

_(He refused to trade one taint for another.)_

* * *

**Okay, I have finally returned with a vengeance. **

**After so much silence, I'm not sure how I feel about this chapter. There is still so much I want to get through before meeting up with canon, but ARGH.**

**Originally, they were going to blow up, like, everything. Or, at least, the Silver Scorpio Tower. Then I decided to have some fun with it and threw together Haides and Sinbad sharing a body and Harry's issues just decided to blow up instead. (The fuck). UPSIDE, we get a nice timeskip next chapter, so we can finally speed things along. I never claimed to be patient.**

**Haha, okay, so, I re-read and started to catch up with Magi and Adventures of Sinbad to psych myself back into writing this story and I spent half the time alternating between flipping tables and laughing. To keep it all quiet for those who haven't read, I sincerely doubt Haides would stand for any of that. Like, he would actively try to kill Sinbad. (On the Adventures of Sinbad side, I PLANNED TO HAVE SERENDINE ****AND SINBAD BE PREVIOUSLY IN LOVE BEFORE I EVEN STARTING CATCHING UP AND I WAS CACKLING. But, I still don't know the order everyone died, so I'm having her die before Mystras (probably in the Founding of the First Sindria (which I'm taking as a completely different place than the Sindria Haides knows and is the reason Sinbad had to restart his money efforts that Haides' tower added to? I dunno) battle such mentioned briefly in the manga (I'm still a couple chapters behind both stories and I don't plan on catching up again anytime soon, so if there has been a progression with that, I know nothing.)…that's not a spoiler right? Cause we don't know much about that event and all.)**

**But, yeah, I'm nixing my previous statement and incorporating some of the information into this story, if only so Haides has something to cut down along the way. It'd be a bit _too_ east otherwise.**

**Next chapter is a bit of a time skip, cause only about a full year has passed since Haides and Sinbad meet in the Hogwarts-esque Dungeon. And its about ten years till canon. I dunno about all of you, but I really want Haides and Aladdin to be 'reunited'...and get to the Alma Torran arc, cause that is another bit I am itching to write.**

***stares* Guys. Guys. I'm begging here, don't tell me you're all waiting for a lemon scene. I have _no plans_ for a lemon scene in this story. I'm sorry if I said anything that made it seem like I was, because _I am not writing a lemon for this story_. I can list a couple reasons of the top of my head, but the main one being this is my _first time_ _writing a serious romantic relationship and I'm not messing myself up by adding sexual relations into it_. I am trying in a separate one-shot, but it's a long going attempt (I blame the bizarre irony of having an aro-ace write a sex scene). _Tldr; THERE IS NO SEX SCENE IN THIS STORY. If you're expecting one, I am really sorry._**

**Guest Reviews:**

**Guest (1) - Thank you! Haha, I'm glad you're enjoying it! Sorry about the delay in updating though...**

**Guest (2) - Ya know? That, oddly enough, might be the nicest thing anyone has ever said. I can understand how this story might be completely different (_arguably better_) if Harry was genderbent, but the fact you enjoy it regardless is awesome. So, thank you!**

**joyce - Thank you! Spoiler - the next level is holding hands. Haha, I'm glad you're enjoying it so far!**

**Guest (3) - Thank you! Hope you didn't have to wait for too long!**

**Guest (4) - *squints at the chapter* *coughs* I mean...there's kinda a Sinbad/Harry moment. One out of two aint that bad, right?**

**WingedNunumzOfRa - That's...not really necessary? I'm lazy, not cruel. (But damn, you're good a flattery. Imma be blushing for the next few days over there.)...yeah, actually, that's the basics of whats gonna happen. Harry just scoops Aladdin up and barricades him in a room - 'I gotta go investigate** **Magnostadt**,** Big Brother!' 'OH HELL NO, YOU ARE STAYING RIGHT HERE UNTIL YOU TURN THIRTY.' Over-protective hovering, spying, teleporting in with cake ('Thought you might be hungry' 'Big Brother, I AM TRYING TO INVESTIGATE MAGNOSTADT, GO BOTHER UNCLE SINBAD') etc. **

**Beppboop - Will do!**

**Anyway, I hope everyone enjoyed this chapter!**


	12. Chapter 12

**(That moment when you've been back home for a month and you realize in the rush of cramming Europe during the last month abroad, you missed updating and scramble to piece together what you had been thinking of when you last stopped writing and _regretting everything.)_**

**This chapter begins with a two year time skip and, ya know, disappointment. All in a days work.**

**I don't own Magi, Adventures of Sinbad, or Harry Potter.**

* * *

Two years passed (two years, nine months, twenty-seven days since Haides was released from his Dungeon – he counted each day like a precious gem, waiting for the other shoe to drop, for Arba's taint to crash down on his happy new life and force his hand into action).

Haides was busy – girls arrived in droves at the palace to enter the Court Dancers. Few came with recommendations (from his penpals Madame Keturah in Qishan and Madame No'ah in Akita), with a desire to _fight_. Haides, of course, sent away the girls who wanted only to get closer to the King.

He sent the ones who hid malicious intentions under their skirts back in boxes. There was only space in this palace for one true assassin (and an amateur, as Zillah got better with each day she shadowed Ja'far).

His stupid, honest, sly King kept his word. Haides was not called upon to Equip with Sinbad again. Rather, Haides was rarely called at all. Instead Haides searched out the King on his own accord, perched at the taller man's side during informational meetings or dignitary dinners.

Two years and the biggest surprise Haides had experienced was finding Sinbad observing the Court Dancers' bi-weekly lessons with Masrur (Haides could almost call the last two years _boring. _He held back the whisper of _adventure_ in his blood - that way laid trouble and bitter battles).

The King's arms were crossed, his side pressed up against a supporting pillar, frowning at the training grounds of the Silver Scorpio Tower.

"You still don't approve," Haides noted, keeping his arms loose at his side. There was no need to be defensive, not after two years of sporadic contact and almost three years of being connected.

"I can't, in good conscious, allow women to fight when a man can," Sinbad admitted. It was an old fight, one the two danced around each time Sinbad saw the girls out and practicing.

Haides took a moment to check on the girls, at Ekaterina who was getting older and more beautiful with each day and Asenath who was the best among her sisters at hand-to-hand combat. At Zillah who had taken to carrying around small knives, hidden in the creases of her silk outfit and Yamraiha who finally agreed to learn how to fight with a bo-staff. At Candace, who was becoming as sharp as her smile.

"You are rather unfair," Haides decided. He gave the King an unimpressed stare, his eyes half-lidded and his mouth twisted into a familiar frown. "To see someone else when my girls are their own people."

"You keep pushing them to become someone they are not," Sinbad snapped. "There is no reason for them to know how to fight."

Haides wanted to pity the man. The djinn _knew_ Sinbad understood the dangers of being a woman – but he was one of them. Sinbad knew hunger and war and grief and disease, slavery and mental manipulation. But he didn't see how Haides' girls watched each man that approached one of their sisters, how they tensed when a man stared for a moment too long.

They just wanted to dance. They just wanted to be _free_.

Haides gave them the confidence, the training to protect themselves.

"Candace asked Masrur yesterday if he could teach her how to rip out a man's jugular with her teeth," Haides confided. Sinbad stiffened, shocked and appalled.

Candace was pretty, delicate looking. Her wrists were thin and muscle slipped off her form like oil on water. Men compared her to a doll. She skipped enough martial arts lessons for gossip at Madame Akeldama's that she lacked the callouses or skills of her sisters. She hid behind her long lashes, sweet-scented soap, and meticulously washed hair. Everyone, from the children in the streets to the slightly less incompetent royal guards, underestimated her.

As if beauty was the antithesis of strength.

Haides could say with the confidence of over two years as their guardian that Candace was his most vicious ward. She was all edges, her soft skin little more than flimsy sheet failing to restrain her claws and teeth and rage. She simply preferred words and delicate looks, her hands clean while her heart was as drenched as her sisters'.

"Kezia wants to learn how to strangle a man with her sash," Haides continued. "Miriam added weights to hers, making it into a net. She managed to pull Yamraiha from the air last week. Zillah is looking for a way to safely coat her nails in poison."

Sinbad's hands were white around his bicep, his jaw locked. Haides had faith – the King hadn't protested yet, haven't snapped back about corrupting children. (_And wasn't that a conversation – Haides knew too much and Sinbad knew too little.)_

"I know how to dance," Haides said. "I know swords and rukh and magic. I know violence and secrets and how to be _quiet_. I know how it feels to be prey, but I don't know the need to pick apparent a man's weakness with a look. I can only show my girls that there were others options, that their fate isn't subservience, isn't _depravity_. They were the ones that choose to make the step."

"You speak often of choices and options, Haides," Sinbad noted. "This or that, here or there. Nothing is ever solid in your eyes."

"I have no love for fate, my King," Haides revealed, a sardonic twist to his lips. He hated fate, hated the fascination humans had with it, the years they wasted on it. He loved Solomon, though, Solomon and Sheba, who 'wrote' the fate of this world.

Haides observed his King. Sinbad had a connection to fate, a desire to reach out and _grab hold of it_, to wrestle it to ground beneath his ideals and his vision. Was that disregard? Was that deference?

Solomon's loose fate made it so hard to tell.

"When I was human," Haides said. Sinbad finally, _finally_, looked away from the Court Dancers to stare at his eighth djinn. Haides didn't acknowledge him, Solomon's rukh stealing his attention. The ethereal butterflies danced, a whisper of acceptance and the touch of a hand against his crown.

Haides cleared his throat. "When I was human, I only had one choice." Fight. (_Die.) _"I don't want my girls to feel restricted like I did." (Trapped; little Harry Potter had been trapped for years and years and years.) "Two options might not be enough – fight or be protected – but it was more than I had. It was more than they had before."

"I'm starting to think your title is wrong, Haides," Sinbad said. Haides blinked at him, confused by the scrutinizing look he was being subjected to. "The djinn of chaos, deception, and creation, you told me. I don't see it."

Solomon's rukh buzzed, curious and amused, as if Haides was being outed. As if he was being proven right all over again.

Haides could picture the look, the slight smirk and lowered eyelids of his previous King. Arrogance, his former allies might have claimed. Haides recognized it, knew it as intimately as he knew a proud beam or open-mouthed horror – Hermione used it every day.

"I will give you chaos and creation," Sinbad said. "But deception? You avoid the truth maybe; yet you have never lied to me."

"I lie all the time, my King," Haides tried, spreading a smile on his face like blood under Sheba's corpse. "That you cannot detect them is not my fault."

"No," Sinbad denied, shaking his head. Haides' smile stalled, cracked at the edges, Solomon's heart when Atlas' crown was balanced on his skull. "You have never lied to me. When you lie, your eyes close while you smile, like you are shutting out the world. Ja'far used to do it too."

Haides dropped it. "Do you have a point, Sinbad?"

"What are you after?" Sinbad asked. That detestable look was back in his eye, like he saw more than he was supposed to. It was dangerous. It was disgusting. It was _not allowed._ "I thought you wanted action or adventure, with all of your talk of freedom and having fun. Instead, all you have done since allying with me is gather a hoard of children and lounge around the palace like a satisfied cat."

Haides stepped forward, curling his fingers around Sinbad's checks. He had to stand on the tips of his toes, but it was worth it to see Sinbad's eyes snap into the correct body – _soul_ – again. He snatched at the edge of a wing and tugged it free from the back of his King's head. Black and oozing with the taint of a man long thought dead, Haides crushed the ethereal form between his nails. The crunch of the beady head and the disgusting mash of organ ooze was overpowered by an angry flash of sickly yellow eyes – a washed out version of Sinbad's glittering gold.

"There is so much you still don't understand, my King," Haides confessed. "I want you strong, stronger than anyone else. That is what I am after."

"Why?" Sinbad's hand hesitated, hovering over the small of the djinn's back. Haides pressed into it and smiled at the warmth of the man's touch.

"What reason could there be other than war?" Haides wondered.

It was not what Sinbad wanted, Haides knew. Sinbad saw enough war and death to last him the rest of his life…

Arba wouldn't wait for Sinbad, a man so powerful and troublesome, to pass before she acted out. She was getting stronger and more insane with each minute and Sinbad had to be prepared. The world needed to be prepared.

If even _David _saw this era as significant enough to risk Solomon and Haides' rage, the djinn needed to step up his plans. He needed to _act_.

"What could you possibly want with war, Handras?" Sinbad pulled the djinn closer, demanding his attention and honesty.

Haides startled. He looked at his King as if he was an idiot.

"Who said _I_ wanted war?"

* * *

Maakah arrived in Sindria with the clothes on their back and a fist full of hope in Madam Celmete's rumors of a warrior harem.

(Anything to escape the threat of chains around their ankle, the one thing they feared more than starving to death because no one _cared_ for _any of them_.)

They arrived without a letter, without a recommendation, with fifteen girls. Master Haides greeted each and every one of them, a shadow dressed in purple his only companion.

Four were directed to Sindria's brothel, to serve under Madame Akeldama. Seven were sent home on a ship, their money spent reimbursed. Only two were taken under Master Haides' wing with a smile and an immediate title of 'daughter'.

(Maakah watched two girls, smiles dull and eyes flat, be directed silently away by the Purple Shadow. They never saw the two again. They learned quickly how steadfast Master Haides' dancers were in their self-proclaimed duty.)

They were skeptical, at first.

For the first night, they slept at the edges of the mass of pillows and scantily clad bodies that encircled Master Haides. They were hesitant of the two young girls – _children_, _in a harem?_ – that crowed and tugged at Master Haides' delicate sash for his attention every spare second he had.

They kept to the back of the hoard of twenty-two girls who swarmed the Tower's Master and called him 'Mama Haides' as if his eyes weren't poison and colder than the depths of the Seven Seas.

(Maakah was disturbed and terrified of this man, who they gave up what meager life they had to follow because of _hope_.)

It was on the third day Maakah hesitated enough to be noticed.

"Do you not want a weapon?"

Maakah shrank back, the knuckles of one hand pressed to their clavicle as they tried not to flinch under their Master's gaze. It was the second time they had been subjected to this strange torture and that knowledge – they survived the first time and _they would do so again_ – did nothing to calm them.

(He was _smaller _than them, but lanky, like a child still growing. He wasn't a mass of muscles looming, so why did their heart _seize_ and their mind _tremble_ before this man barely into his second decade?)

"I..." Maakah bit their lip, but held the stare. Somehow, miraculously, they held the stare with their plain brown eyes. "I have never hurt someone before."

Master Haides canted his head, curious and bird-like. His shadow chuffed her foot.

(Maakah had heard servants in the halls comparing the Master to a cat, lazy and indulging. Maakah could only think _fools_ and eye the hawks and Sindria's papagoras.)

"They can join Candace, Mama Haides," the shadow suggested.

Candace? Maakah tried not to balk. Candace was pretty, the type of woman Maakah expected to find at the side of a king or a noble, not a dancer and definitely not a warrior with scars and _blemishes_.

Candace whose smile was more a knife than the dagger she strapped to her thigh.

"Yes," Master Haides hummed, his eyes gliding up to look over their shoulder. "That should work well. If you agree, Maakah?"

Maakah nodded. Master Haides swept away to his next 'daughter' with an absentminded wave and Candace slid into place where he once stood, as if called. Maakah didn't say anything as the shadow passed them to follow after the Master.

(They didn't say anything as Candace started talking about brothels and men and hiding violence where no one – not soldiers, not kings, not even _assassins – _would look.

Only someone far too smart to leave alive.)

And Maakah adjusted. They covered themself in soft, loose silk designed after Lord Ja'far's cotton. They pulled their long hair up, kept in place with two sharp metal hair sticks the Shadow handed them during their sixth month with a wink.

They shrugged off her mentor's huff of 'finally'. It was okay because Maakah didn't join the 'warrior's harem' to hurt people. They just wanted to be _stronger. _(Strong _enough)_

And soon Maakah was watching new siblings, new children of Master Haides, join the shadow family. They printed the dancer's creed into their heart. They greeted Lord Masrur and Lord Sharkkan as their brothers. They curled up beside their sisters and relished in the warmth blooming inside.

They never once, in their first year as Mama Haides' child, ever saw the King their Master was sworn to up-close.

Not until Haides disappeared one day, gone without a word to even his ever-vigilant shadow.

His twenty-four daughters – Leah being the newest and the most frantic at the newest turn of events – crowded the main room of the Tower.

The girls sat, cross legged and straight back, each eyeing the sister beside them.

"Haides can take care of himself," Yamraiha huffed, crossing her arms petulantly. Maakah tried not to eye the fifteen-year-old magician warily. She was one of Master Haides' favorites and the two loved to devolve into conversations on the 'God-King Solomon' and 'rukh' at a whim.

It felt like soul-tearing truths in their heart but Maakah, with a dungeon in their home country and no father to house them before they left, couldn't believe.

"It is not a concern as to if Mama Haides can protect himself." Candace laughed, lounging on the stone as if it were a prince's bed. "It's if we can keep the palace standing until he returns."

"King Sinbad –" Leah chimed in loyally.

"Our King is a great man; may his reign be long and prosperous." Candace rolled her hand languidly, leaving the rest of the loyalist pleasantries for the masses. "But the last time Mama Haides disappeared, King Sinbad got it into his head to wrestle with a Sea Beast, with half of his Generals cheering him on. Lord Ja'far almost nicked an artery."

Maakah leaned back. Sure, they had heard the – frankly a bit hurtful – rumors about the King's Chief Advisor, but _nicked an artery_ seemed a bit of an exaggeration.

"Masrur and Sharkkan are with the King," Asenath faithfully informed her sisters.

"As long as King Sinbad isn't trying to take over the world, Masrur won't care," Miriam said. "And Sharkkan is insufferable when he's around the King for too long. He suggested I leave the fighting to the soldiers last time."

"Mama Haides threw him into the sea for that," Galilee soothed. "Without his precious sword."

"None of this is helping us decide what we should do with Mama Haides gone," Ahava added.

"We know one thing at least," the Shadow said. "The King cannot know."

Maakah supposed it was some twist of fate that their King choose that exact moment to come striding in through the thin drapes of the Sapphire Pisces Tower's entrance, trailed by an agitated Lord Ja'far, bored Masrur, and sheepishly smiling Sharkkan.

"Know what, girls?" Sinbad, Self-Made King of Sindria, King Vessel, and Master of Seven Djinn asked. He smiled at them and winked.

The dancers jumped to their feet, bowing to their sworn King, their right fist over their hearts loyally.

Ekaterina looked up from her doll, perhaps the calmest about Master Haides' disappearance, and said, "Hi Papa! I hope you're not here to see Mama, cause he's not here right now. Zillah is though! You can talk to her instead."

King Sinbad's royal brow furrowed. "Haides isn't here?"

Zillah stood straight and glided to the front of the mass of women. Yamraiha gleefully saddled up to her side. "Master Haides has left on one of his excursions, my King."

King Sinbad's expression pinched ever so slightly. "Do you know where, by any chance?"

Zillah gave her King a disrespectfully flat stare. "Master Haides left without a word to anyone."

"That is rather unlike him," Lord Ja'far cut in. He scanned the scene of dancers. "He usually tells you when he is gone so you don't worry."

"Master Haides is not required to check in with us," Zillah said faithfully.

"He said he's going to check up on my sisters and mock an old hermit," Ekaterina supplied, her doll doing alarmingly accurate imitations of techniques Masrur showed them just last week.

A couple sisters hid their heads in their hands.

"I heard another mercenary group showed up in Qishan, for the dungeon," Candace added, a finger up in realization. "I told Haides, but I didn't think much about it."

"Qishan is at least a three month journey from Sindria," Maakah finally spoke up. "What are we supposed to do without Master Haides for so long?"

King Sinbad looked at them, his head tilted in confusion. "I'm sorry, and you are?"

"Maakah," Candace said, hooking an arm around them. "One of my little kittens, my King. They've been with us for little over a year now. They're precious, so sweet and innocent."

"Maakah," King Sinbad started, sweeping forward to hold one of their hands between his larger, rougher, paler pair. Maakah froze. (This was the _King_ of _Sindria_, the man their sisters trained to protect and could talk to as if well acquainted. And he was _touching them_. Touching street filth, sewer rat Maakah.) "Haides is a trusted member of my Court, a position which garners him certain capabilities. We can expect him back by tomorrow night, at the latest. I have never seen any of his trips last for any longer. I promise you, there is no need to worry yourself."

Maakah ached to step back, to be enveloped by their sisters.

Something large and green smashed against the King's skull, sending red debris flying everywhere. The King choked out a cry, bending over to rub his head as Maakah skittered away, startled.

"I leave for _five hours_ and I come back to see your hands all over one of my children." Master Haides, a watermelon in hand, glared over at his King from his spot beside Masrur. The muscled teen accepted the large fruit from the diminutive dancer before Haides spun on the King.

The King straightened, popping a finger into his mouth to taste the red spray. "Did you throw a watermelon at me?"

Master Haides deadpanned. "You looked thirsty."

"Next time," Lord Ja'far cut in, pulling out a cloth from his sleeves to throw over King Sinbad's head. "Perhaps a pitcher of wine would suffice, Master Haides."

Master Haides' grin was familiar and warm, but Maakah could feel the sharp edge against their heart. "I will keep that in mind, little assassin. In the meantime," he turned his gaze onto his dancers. "I believe we have a dance tonight, for your fanciful diplomatic meeting. My dancers need time prepare – leave."

"Haides, you can't just –"

"This is my domain," Haides said, refusing to look at the King. His tone was cold, his bright eyes even colder. It sent a chill down Maakah's spine. Their Master was displeased. "You'll see that I can do _whatever I want."_

The King kept silent, taking in Haides' tense silhouette. He apparently gleaned some sort of answer as he nodded and left, beckoning his Generals out with him. Lord Masrur and Lord Sharkkon hesitated longer than Lord Ja'far who seemed to trust the King's decision on how to handle the irate Master Dancer.

"Is everything alright, old man?" Lord Sharkkon stepped forward, wary in a way Maakah rarely saw from the flippant swordsman.

Haides pursed his lips, looking up at the ceiling rather than face his son. "I met with an old ally. Age seems to have made me forget how much I hated his wrinkly ass. It's not even fun to mock him, when he likes to drag up ancient history."

Lord Sharkkon, Lord Masrur, and Yamraiha seemed to understand, backing down with little more than a glance between themselves. Maakah tried not to be hurt. They were still new, still just barely one of Haides' children. Besides, their benefactor deserved his secrets.

The Shadow, strangely enough, looked to be just as out of the loop as the rest of their sisters.

"Maybe you should let Zillah lead the dance tonight, Haides," Yamraiha suggested, her hands twisting around her staff. "It'll be good practice for her."

"Candace would be better," Maakah let slip.

Haides's head snapped around, that cold sheen still predominant in his stare. Maakah pulled back, their knuckles pressed against their collarbone. The remaining three General's looked ready to step in as Haides scanned them.

Their sisters didn't react other than to hide their smiles with hair, hands, or long sleeves.

"Oh?" Haides prompted, his poison green eyes coxing the answer out of Maakah's white-pressed lips.

"Candace." Maakah consciously pulled their hand from their chest, twisting their fingers into their outfit. "She's more aware of body language and reactions that the – than Zillah. Candace can direct us better as she's memorized our abilities and our audience's tastes."

"Zillah is too physical, you're saying, Maakah?"

Maakah twitched. They forgot what it felt like for their Master to speak their name. It was a rush of warmth – they _belonged_ once again – and a chilling cold – Haides wasn't, couldn't be, human and every story they knew cautioned against gifting names to demons.

"Yes," they said, bowing their head just the slightest bit. They risked a look between their fringe when Haides huffed, amused.

"And Candace prioritizes information and its uses over the physical prowess her siblings favor," Haides continued. "Her leading puts her in the perfect position to manipulate the formation for each diplomat."

"Yes," the Master mused, patting Maakah's head – _when did he get so close_ – and smiling down at them with his inhuman eyes. "I can see why Candace is so enamored with you, kiddo."

Haides sauntered off out of Pisces Tower with a backwards wave, with Ekaterina and the Shadow following behind.

Maakah dared not breathe until he was out of sight.

A deman. They signed away their soul to a demon.

Candace bowled into them, a squeal of glee ringing in their ears as she pressed a kiss to their cheek and their siblings twittered.

They smiled.

Well, at least they weren't alone in their blasphemous devotion.

* * *

Haides left the Sapphire Pisces Tower behind, too angry and discomforted by the memory of the old hermit's claims, his brief amusement at his child's analyzation pushed into the background.

"_Our King Solomon is dead and his reign has fallen. Why do you linger still, Handras? What purpose does playing mortal with such fleeting lives serve you-who-are-forever?"_

"What does that hermit know?" Haides growled, marching past servants as he let his feet guide him somewhere soft and familiar and achingly neutral. "He abandoned you for a faith you died for. Where does he get off waiting for some unknowing fool to fall for that death sentence?"

Ekaterina giggled, swinging as she held tightly to his upper arm, her practice doll tucked inside her dress. Zillah shadowed his steps, quiet and calm, choosing to watch and wave away concerned court members rather than try to temper his tantrum. She was not bothered by his seemingly one-sided conversation.

Haides might not have revealed his true nature or past to her, but Zillah was no idiot. Someone always answered Haides back.

"_King_," Haides spat. "More than age, more than disease – it is the title of King that kills. And yet humanity craves it like a drug, like a salvation."

Haides marched through the archway connecting the common hallway and the Tower, his feet leading him as he talked with the air.

"But," he continued, his voice almost a whisper. "Not you. You never wanted it." He directed a sad smile at the marble floor, remembering blue eyes closing off as that light of hope dimmed with defeat. "You hated it, so much."

Rukh kissed his cheeks, a pantomime of the tears he had long since shed.

"You just wanted everyone to be _free_." And fuck, did the idea of freedom appeal to Haides. To Harry. To that immortal being locked in an endless loop.

If the price of freedom was just a chain around one person's neck? Well, Haides had long since noted the similarities between himself and his first king.

(_F_**o**_**r**__ t_**h**_e __**Gr**_**e**_a__**t**__e_**r **_**Go**_**o**_**d**__)_

Haides pulled up short, realizing where his feet had chosen as a safe haven away from his home in the Sapphire Pieces Tower. Or, perhaps, where his former king and queen directed him.

"Since when were the two of you matchmakers?" Haides mused, pushing open the door without so much as an introductory knock. The two guards were far smarter this time around. He made a bee-line for the bed, throwing himself on as Zillah found an appropriate corner to lurk in and Ekaterina prodded at every nock and cranny of the unfamiliar room.

The King was notably nowhere in sight.

"You two were the ones encouraging me," Haides noted, crossing his arms behind his head as he laid down to look up at the colored ceiling. "What do you think I should be doing?"

The impression of a smile pressed against his temple as Sheba's giggle circled around him.

"All I have ever done is watch over your best interests" Haides defended. "It's not like this has been a vacation."

Solomon fed Haides an image of Alma Torran's last hour, of Arba's smile, of Sheba torn to pieces – of Haides's biggest failure.

He gritted his teeth. "I know it's my fault."

Sheba _shrieked_, the rukh battering his sides hard enough to leave bruises. His King's blue eyes flashed through his mind, hard as glaciers and blazing in a way his empty body never replicated after his ascension.

"If I had _been there_, if I had _tried harder_, you'd still be _alive!_" Little Prince Aladdin would have grown up to be the most beloved child in the world – the son of his bookworms. Everyone – except Solomon, who _deserved _freedom _just as much_ – would have been free instead of locked in this mockery of a race for a throne that did not exist.

Haides tried not to twitch as the bed dipped and a calloused hand pressed against his hip.

"Who are you talking to, Haides?" Sinbad wondered, staring down at his djinn. It had been nearly two years since the immortal had bothered to step foot in his rooms, preferring to invade every other aspect of his life – his meetings, his office, his training grounds. To find his djinn here, after last seeing him refusing his King's presence and in a noticeably foul mood, was a deviation from their previous exchanges.

"Mama's talking to his ghosts!" Ekaterina chipped in as she steadily built a fort out of Sinbad's abundance of pillows. Sinbad nodded to her and made eye contact with his djinn's watcher – had her eyes always glowed like that? It was unnerving.

"What's wrong?"

Haides ignored his current king's attempt at making eye contact, keeping his attention focused steady on the ceiling. "I want to burn this world to the ground."

The room was silent for a moment, before Sinbad huffed at quiet laugh, flopping down next to Haides on the bed. "I don't know if I'm supposed to worship you or press you into submission."

"Oh?" Haides turned onto his side to get a better look at his king.

"You are a djinn," Sinbad said, revealing the truth to Haides's two daughters without a care in the world. Neither seemed surprised. "A being of unimaginable power and a direct connection to the god of this world. And yet, your fellows are sealed inside my weapons while you roam free. Would you help us if we worshiped you? Or is all of this my test, and I must force you under heel?"

Haides grinned. Sinbad's eyes were sharp, for all that he was no longer looking at the djinn. Let that snake-faced snot-nosed brat try and infringe on _this_.

"You give us too much credit, idiot king," Haides said, stretching out along the length of the taller man. He rested his head on the man's shoulder, watching the furrow of his brow. His lips rested right by his ear, close enough to keep his words a secret from his daughter. He didn't whisper. "We were mortal once, all of us. Little different from you, scrambling and clawing our way into power."

"That does not answer my question, Haides," Sinbad said. Haides appreciated his discretion. His daughters had no reason to know his name. Not yet.

"I have been worshiped. And I have been forced into submission. If you try either with me, idiot king, I do not care how many of my fellow djinn you hoard or how deep my seal is carved into your chest – I will kill you."

"Then what is it you want, Haides?" Sinbad wondered, his brow furrowed as the tips of his fingers brush against a forming bruise.

"All I have ever wanted, idiot King, is my freedom."

And what a bitter truth that was.

* * *

**Candace the Spy-Master. The Gossip Monger. The Whisper Keeper. (Can I say, I really like my OCs?)**

**I really like Outsider POV stories? Kinda wanted to try it out, while still moving along the story and showing how Haides is perceived by others. Cause, let's be honest, he's not exactly the most reliable of narrators. **

**Reminder: Harry/Haides/Handras is not a good person. He cares about people, yeah. But, his first loyalty is to Solomon right now. He trusts Sinbad to some level, but he's too wrapped up in the past to give away all his loyalty to a man **_**who will die before Haides does**_**. **

**One of these days, I'll write a chapter I am completely satisfied with and _not _wanna delete before I can ever upload it. One of these days.**

**(*finger-guns away from the handful still asking about more mature content*)**

**Guest Reviews:**

**Guest (1) - Thank you! Oh, you're welcome! Haha, I'm glad to know I'm not the only one. I try to make all of my relationships more centered around friendship and emotions than sexual attraction, cause I understand those better. Like...not to rag on people in more physical relationships, but, _how?_**

**Morrigan - Thank you!**

**Alazea - Thank you! *squints* ah, well, hope you were prepared to wait a while...sorry 'bout that!**

**Holysquitdoodle - Yay! Haha, trust me, I think I like this story too much sometimes too. **

**Z - No worries about that! I might take sometime *cough* months at a time *cough* but I plan to _finish this story _****_one day._****Ahem. Yeah, they're getting there, but it's kinda a casual relationship? I dunno, I just see Sinbad being in an open relationship and Haides laughing at him when he gets rejected - or, you know, the whole thing with Kougyoku. Full-out cackling. **

**akuma - And more you will get!**

**Guest (2) - Well, no more waiting, yay!**

**Lilacantics - Haha, I'm glad you're enjoying the story. Sorry it took a while, but it's longer than usual _and_ with more Sinbad/Harry interactions. Does that make up for the lateness?**

**Guest (3) - Oh shit. You're welcome, hun. **

**Bows Hello - Hello~ Oh, hun, so am I, like you don't even _know_. So many plans, not enough reactions. Haha, will do!**

**Anyway, I hope everyone enjoyed this chapter? Another timeskip next chapter - but less like a countdown this time. **


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